


ASP: The House of Judgement

by Binsfeld



Series: The Mongoose [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts First Year, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binsfeld/pseuds/Binsfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus starts out his first year at Hogwarts a nervous wreck. Overshadowed by his brother and expected to live up to his father's name, he struggles to do well in classes, make friends outside of his many cousins, and hopefully not make an enemy of Scorpius Malfoy, the son of his father's old enemy. As if things weren't already stressful enough, there's a new secret club being put together that James won't tell him about. They call themselves the hidden fifth House of Hogwarts.<br/>And they seem to be targeting Slytherins.</p>
<p>(Note: Scorpius/Albus doesn't become a thing until later years; this first fic focuses on their first year.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sorted

It was an hour since the Hogwarts Express had left the platform and started on its long journey to the school. Up and down the train, excited students were discussing upcoming classes and catching up with friends.

Albus, however, was so busy worrying about his Sorting that he took little part in his cousins' animated conversation. His father's parting words about the Sorting Hat had been a surprise and a small comfort, but try as he might to quiet his nerves, his mind kept looping back stubbornly to that one nervous “what if” that persisted in floating through his thoughts.

Rose was the first to notice his inattention. “Al.” She prodded him in the arm until he dragged his gaze away from the window and looked at her. “You're not still worried about what James said, are you?”

Albus glanced around at the others. James had chosen to sit in another compartment with Roxanne and some of their fellow second year friends. Seated across from Rose, Molly and Louis had paused in their discussion of Quidditch and were studying Albus curiously.

“I'm fine,” he said quickly.

“It's not a big deal, you know,” Louis pointed out. He nodded towards his cousin. “Molly and I aren't in Gryffindor, and our parents didn't seem to mind.”

“Yeah, I know,” Albus mumbled, staring down at where he was clutching his wand in his lap.

The trip to Diagon Alley a week before had been intoxicating. He'd been so excited to find his very own wand, to get fitted for his robes, to stack his arms full of the books he would need for classes. But now his excitement was buried under layers of anxiety. Being the son of Harry Potter brought with it a lot of expectations. James had already started living up to the family name, at least. He and Roxanne had gotten into mischief more than once during their first year, if the letters sent home were anything to go off of. And James had already proven to be a quick study in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Albus feared that he would fall short. And if he were to land in another House, his brother would tease him mercilessly, even if their parents didn't mind. And aside from that, what would everyone at school think if Harry Potter's son ended up in Slytherin?

He stuffed his wand in his bag when he realized how tightly he was holding it. “Aren't you worried?” he demanded, trying to take the attention off of himself. “I mean, if you don't get Gryffindor, your dad's going to be pretty upset, right?”

Rose shrugged, looking unconcerned. “Mom and Dad are pretty sure I'll be in Gryffindor. He was just teasing me.”

“She'll be there for sure,” Louis said. He'd been Sorted into Hufflepuff two years ago. No one had seemed too surprised; he was a friendly boy who always insisted on playing fair in any of the games the cousins played together.

Rose shrugged again, but Al noticed she was tugging at a string on her blouse, and felt better. She hid it well, but she was nervous, too.

“Personally,” Molly said, pulling her hair back into a quick plait, “I think you have a pretty good chance of joining Ravenclaw. Your mum's super smart, and you are, too. I kind of hope you do, really. We can be study buddies.”

Rose and Al exchanged a quick look. He was desperately hoping they both made it to Gryffindor. He had become so accustomed to hanging around his cousins while growing up that the thought of trying to make new friends was intimidating. Rose offered him a weak little smile, then returned her attention to the book open in her lap without saying anything more.

Louis was still watching him with concern, so he forced himself to join the conversation when Molly started talking about Quidditch again. “James and Roxanne are trying out this year,” she said. “I don't think I will, though. I'm rubbish on a broomstick.”

One more thing for James to become flawlessly superior in, Albus thought sourly.

~*~

He was such a bundle of nerves that the rest of the trip seemed to pass in a blur. He struggled into his robes as the train pulled into the station, bid farewell to Louis and Molly, and went to join the clump of anxious first years with Rose. Spotting a familiar form towering over the other children, he offered a quick wave.

“Hagrid!”

The big man beamed, waving back, then began herding the first years towards the boats.

“You know him?” a nearby boy with a rather prominent nose asked, looking impressed.

“He's a friend of the family,” Rose explained.

Someone jabbed the boy in the side and whispered something to him. Albus thought he heard the word “Potter” and pushed his way through the crowd to get away from them. Being related to someone famous had its downsides, though James seemed to view them as perks.

He joined Rose and two other boys in a boat, and gasped along with them as they skimmed across the lake and they beheld the castle for the first time. As they all clambered out of the boats and hurried to keep up with Hagrid on the way up to the castle, Albus worried he might be sick. He was so excited and nervous he already couldn't wait for the night to be over.

Once inside, there was much jostling as the first years crowded the steps on the way to the Great Hall. A girl with dark skin and tightly braided hair got knocked over, and Albus stopped to help her up before someone could step on her fingers.

“Thanks,” she said. He could feel her arm shaking under his hand. Her eyes were wide, and she looked as petrified as he felt. Oddly, her fear made some of his own fade somewhat.

“No problem. I'm Albus.”

“Felicia,” she mumbled, sticking close to his side as they continued up the stairs. “Felicia Baker. My parents are, well, um... What's the word?”

“Muggles?” Rose supplied, coming up on her other side and offering a friendly smile.

“Yeah. That.” Felicia couldn't seem to stop craning her head, trying to take in everything at once, from the shifting staircases to the animated portraits. “This is all so... _weird_.”

Albus laughed, and forgot to watch where he was going. He ran into the boy in front of him. “Sorry,” he said automatically.

The boy turned around to offer him an impatient look, and Albus did a double-take. He'd seen that pale face and white-blond hair on Platform 9 ¾ before boarding the train. This, then, was Scorpius Malfoy, the son of his father's old school rival.

“Sorry,” he said again. He had no desire to make any enemies his first day at school, especially not any that might carry on their parents' grudges.

But Scorpius was already turning away.

Everyone else had stopped, too; there was a tall witch standing at the top of the staircase, watching them as they collected in a group on the stairs before her.

“I am Professor Sinistra,” she said after a few moments, when the murmurs had died down. “Professor of Astronomy and Head of Slytherin House.” She motioned towards the closed double doors behind her with a long-fingered hand. “In the Great Hall you will be Sorted into your Houses. Each House-- Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw –will serve as your home away from home during your stay here. You may earn or lose points for your House depending on your behavior and performance. Your prefects will explain this in more detail later. Once you are Sorted, you will go sit with the rest of your House. Follow me.” She turned on her heel and marched towards the doors; they opened at a wave of her wand, and the first years hastened to follow.

As they trooped through the Great hall, past the tables, Albus could feel eyes on him from every direction as the older students studied the frightened first years with amusement and curiosity. Someone whistled sharply in greeting, earning a few laughs. He didn't bother to look for the source; James had gotten his attention that way countless times before, and was showing off for his friends.

Professor Sinistra motioned for the first years to line up in front of the faculty table. As he found himself wedged in between Rose and Felicia, Albus found himself looking up and down the table for a familiar face.

“There's Neville,” he murmured, pointing out the smiling Herbology Professor to Rose.

“Remember, it's 'Professor' while we're here,” Rose reminded him, but smiled back when Neville offered them both a small wave. Hagrid squeezed into the seat beside him, bumping into the irritated looking man at the end of the table.

“That must be Professor Zabini,” Rose said under her breath, eyeing him with trepidation. “Mum says she knew him a little when she was in school. He was in Slytherin. He's very handsome.”

Albus frowned. “James hates him. I'm not looking forward to taking Potions with him. He's supposed to be pretty strict.”

Felicia was listening to them both, her eyes still huge. Aware they were making her more frightened, Albus directed her attention to the man seated in the place of honor. “There's the Headmaster, Professor Shacklebolt. He was Minister of Magic awhile back. He's a friend of our parents. He's a good man.”

“You sure know a lot of the teachers,” Felicia noted.

“Er...” It was the first time in awhile he'd met someone who hadn't heard of his parents. Being muggle-born, it was highly likely Felicia had very little knowledge of the Wizarding War at all. He was saved from having to explain anything by Professor Sinistra clearing her throat for silence and placing the tattered Sorting Hat on a low stool.

She began reading off the names. The first two were sorted into Hufflepuff. Felicia gave a little squeak of fear when her name was read off, and almost tripped on her way to the stool.

“Gryffindor!” the hat shouted after a moment.

“Seems a little twitchy to be there, doesn't she?” someone muttered from behind Albus, earning a laugh from someone else.

Albus started to turn around to make an irritated retort, but Rose pinched his arm. “Don't.”

“Heathcliffe, Andrew.”

That was the boy with the large nose from earlier. He, too, got sent to Gryffindor.

As more and more students were called up, Albus found his nervousness had returned with a vengeance. He began chewing on his nails, a habit he thought he'd abandoned.

“Malfoy, Scorpius.”

“I'll give you three guesses where he ends up,” Rose muttered.

Scorpius sat himself down on the stool, spine straight, and Sinistra placed the hat on his head.

There was a long moment of silence. Albus saw Scorpius's fingers curl around the edge of the stool, the only outward sign of his uneasiness.

“Wow,” Rose said softly as the seconds dragged into a full minute. “I was sure the second it hit his head it'd--”

“Slytherin!” the hat shouted so suddenly that Scorpius jumped.

“Well, of course,” Rose said, stepping aside as the crowd parted to let him by. “I'm just surprised it took so long.”

“Yeah,” Albus said absently. Professor Sinistra had moved on to the N's. Soon it would be his turn.

And then it was.

“Potter, Albus.”

Albus took a deep breath and forced himself to move. He found himself sitting on the stool without any real recollection of walking there. He felt the hat settle on his head and held his breath.

_Hmmm,_ the hat murmured in his head.  _Potter, eh? You have a good soul. Trustworthy. Loyal. Kind._

Albus thought he could see where this was going. “Please don't stick me in Hufflepuff,” he breathed, barely audible. He felt a flash of guilt a moment later. His father had spoken well of the House before, but he still couldn't get rid of the fear of his brother's taunts if he were to end up in anything other than Gryffindor.

_Well... all right, then. There's another place you'd do well._

“Gryffindor!” the hat shouted.

Albus sprang to his feet, grinning with delighted relief. He handed the hat back to Sinistra and flashed Rose a thumbs up as he hurried to the Gryffindor table, jubilant. The Gryffindor students had stood to applaud him just like all the others. James was already pushing someone further down the bench to make room for him.

“Knew you would get in,” he said with a proud smirk as Albus slid into the vacated spot.

Albus grinned back, too happy to be annoyed by the way James reached over and ruffled his hair. Roxanne reached over James's head to offer him a high-five. Felicia was smiling at him from further down the table, and he waved to her before returning his attention to the front. Now Rose just needed to be put in Gryffindor as well and it would be perfect.

It took another ten minutes before Sinistra reached the W's. When she called out “Weasley, Rose”, Albus held his breath. Surely she'd get Gryffindor. Both her parents had been in Gryffindor. They'd promised to stick together their first year.

There was a pause after the hat settled over Rose's red hair. It wasn't as long as Scorpius's, but it was long enough for Albus to wonder if the hat was ruminating to itself the same way it had with him.

“Ravenclaw!”

The cheers that erupted from the Ravenclaws drowned out Albus's gasp of shock.

“No surprise, really,” James was saying, though he looked a little disappointed as well. “I mean, look how smart she is. Didn't Aunt Hermione once say the hat thought about sticking her in Ravenclaw, too?”

Albus barely heard him. He watched in disbelief as Rose made her way over to the Ravenclaw table and found a seat. She caught his eye from across the hall and offered a weak apologetic smile and a quick wave.

Had she asked the hat to sort her there? Or had she let the hat make up its own mind? Why hadn't she asked for Gryffindor? He felt a rush of betrayed anger. They'd planned to spend their first year together. To help each other out in class and learn the ins and outs of Hogwarts together. How could she have let that stupid hat stick her in a completely different House from him?

He lowered his gaze so he didn't have to look at her anymore, staring at his empty plate.

“Well, Mum and Dad will be proud,” James said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And here you were worried about not getting into Gryffindor.”

“And who put those worries in his head, hm?” Roxanne demanded, giving James a pointed look.

Albus didn't lift his eyes. He thought again of the hat's hesitation. Had it really been about to stick him in Hufflepuff before he'd spoken up? He couldn't tell James that. Not ever. James seemed to be of the firm opinion that all Hufflepuffs were pushovers, even if he never said it to Louis's face. What if that meant he didn't really belong in Gryffindor? Maybe Rose had been right, after all, to let the hat make up its own mind.

He pushed away such unpleasant thoughts as a hush fell over the Hall. The Sorting was finished, and Professor Shacklebolt was getting to his feet.

“Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts,” he said in a deep, slow voice. “Dig in.”

Albus leaned back in surprise as the empty dishes on the table suddenly filled to the brim with food. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he caught a whiff of pork. He reached for the nearest platter and began heaping food on his plate.

Roxanne flicked a string bean at her brother's head where he was seated across from her. “Hey, quit hogging all the potatoes!”

“I like potatoes,” Fred retorted, his mouth already stuffed full of food. He and Roxanne got into a brief struggle over the bowl of mashed potatoes.

Albus grinned a little at their familiar antics. Even if Rose wasn't in Gryffindor, they could still see each other sometimes, he tried to console himself. Ravenclaws were sure to share at least some classes with Gryffindor. And they could always meet up after classes.

He saw Felicia eyeing the pudding, too shy to speak up, and passed it down. As he watched her dish some of it onto her plate, careful not to bump elbows with the students on either side of her, he found himself gripped with a sudden determination. James and and Roxanne were a year ahead of him, and Fred was already in his fourth year. And Victoire was a seventh year, way too popular for a first year like himself. With Rose in another House now, he would have to make friends outside of the family. And that would mean making an actual effort.

He jabbed his brother in the ribs with his elbow. “James, scoot over, will you? Felicia! Come sit by us.”

Looking flustered but pleased, Felicia collected her goblet and plate and hurried around the table. As he watched her, Albus found his eyes passing over the Slytherin table.

Scorpius Malfoy was looking right at him, his face expressionless. When he caught Albus's eye, he looked away dismissively.

As Albus made room for Felicia, he hoped uneasily that he wouldn't end up making enemies at the same time as he was trying to make new friends.


	2. Old Rivalries

It took Albus a long time to get to sleep that first night.

 

James, Fred, and Roxanne insisted on celebrating his acceptance to Gryffindor with a surprise party, complete with whizbees from Roxanne's father, cookies James had filched from the feast, and a lot of rowdy goodwill that excited the rest of the first years. It wasn't until one of the Prefects, Eustace Pennywright, came storming back into the common room at midnight and began shouting at everyone to get their saggy buttcheeks into bed on the double that the impromptu party was broken up.

 

Albus lay in bed grinning into his pillow, still giddy with relief and buoyed by the wonders of the school. The Gryffindor common room was as large and cozy as James had described it, everything about the castle seemed grand, and he may well be on his way to making his first real friend outside of the family. Felicia was shy, but she'd seemed excited during the little party. Everything was new and fascinating to her after a life as a muggle, and James had been in his element, explaining some of the things about a wizard's life to her and even showing off with a couple of spells.

 

It wasn't until he was finally starting to drift to sleep that he remembered James's parting words as they'd climbed the dormitory steps. “Watch out tomorrow morning. You've got Potions first thing with that git Zabini-- _and_ you'll be sharing the class with Slytherin. Try not to get jinxed. Or, yanno, expelled.”

 

~*~

 

He very nearly slept through breakfast the next morning. James had to roll him off the bed to wake him, and he barely had enough time to stumble down to the Great Hall and cram some cereal and toast down his throat before Felicia, practically squirming with impatience beside him, finally convinced him they were going to be late if they didn't start heading to class.

 

They rushed through the halls, meeting up with Andrew Heathcliffe, who was hopelessly lost and starting to panic. Felicia finally flagged down a helpful Hufflepuff Prefect, and they managed to make it down to the Potions dungeon just before class started.

 

Professor Zabini barely glanced up as they entered. He was directing students where to sit, shooing friends away who'd tried to clump together with imperious flicks of his hand and glaring at anyone who didn't obey quickly enough. As Albus hesitantly slid into a nearby seat, he couldn't help but notice that Zabini seemed just as brusque with the Slytherins as he was with the Gryffindors.

 

“Look what he's doing,” Andrew hissed. “He's pairing Slytherins with us!”

 

Albus watched with surprise. Andrew was right. Zabini was ruthlessly separating House members from each other and arranging them so that they were seated in pairs of opposing Houses.

 

“Maybe he's hoping the Slytherins will poison their partners,” Andrew grumbled.

 

“Or he's trying to make us get along,” Felicia said a little hesitantly. “Your brother told me all about the rivalry between our two Houses, Albus. Maybe they're trying to fix that?”

 

Albus didn't get a chance to answer. Zabini had caught his eye and was beckoning him over impatiently. “See you,” Albus muttered, grabbing his bag and hurrying up to the indicated table.

 

He slid into his new seat, swallowing back his disappointment. He'd hoped he and Felicia could help each other out. Now he was going to get stuck with some Slytherin who would probably spend the whole class refusing to talk to him or trying to sabotage him, if his father's and brother's stories were any indication of what to expect.

 

“Malfoy,” Zabini barked. “Move here. You.” He snapped his fingers at Felicia to get her attention, and she jumped. “There. With Castor.”

 

Albus glanced sideways as Scorpius Malfoy slid into the seat beside him. Just his luck. The morning was starting to look bleak indeed.

 

But Scorpius was ignoring him as if he wasn't even there. He pulled his book out of his bag, set his bag on the floor, and began riffling absently through the pages, looking bored.

 

Albus looked from him to Felicia, who was huddled in her seat at the table across the aisle, avoiding the forbidding glare of the girl seated beside her. She caught his eye and made a helpless “we're doomed” face.

 

“Introduce yourselves to your partner,” Zabini said once everyone was seated. He strode back up to the front of the classroom and began writing his name on the board. “You're stuck with each other for the rest of the year.”

 

Albus took a deep breath, steeling himself. Getting off on the wrong foot with his lab partner had the potential to make Potions ten times harder for himself than it needed to be. “Um, hi. I'm Albus.” He hesitated before adding delicately, “Albus Potter.”

 

Scorpius finally deigned to look at him. He eyed Albus with a small frown, as if he'd found something small and smelly crawling on the floor and was debating the wisdom of stomping on it. “I know who you are,” he said shortly.

 

“And you're, uh, Scorpius, right?”

 

“Obviously.” He looked away, returning his attention to his book.

 

Albus sat in awkward silence for a moment. He heard a rude laugh from the girl Felicia had been partnered with. “Look, uh, I know our dads didn't really get along, but that was a long time ago. There's no reason for us not to be civil, right?”

 

Scorpius flicked him a narrow look, but apparently Zabini had decided one minute was long enough for introductions. “Quiet,” he said sharply, and the class instantly subsided. “Turn to page three. Today we are going over the basics of potion making. Its uses, the consequences of mistakes, and some of the more common ingredients.” He lifted a scroll and began reading out names. His eyes flickered towards Albus when he called on him, and lingered thoughtfully on Scorpius, but he continued down his list without comment.

 

He began prowling the room and lecturing about the many uses and dangers of potion making. Albus got so caught up in scribbling notes that he forgot to keep a wary eye on Scorpius. Which was just as well, since Scorpius seemed just as determined to ignore him, his own quill scratching away as he bent over his parchment.

 

Zabini was impatient and talked fast, and at the end of the class he began calling on random students to answer questions about what they had discussed. He was borderline rude to anyone who gave a wrong answer, and had no praise for those who were correct. By the end of class, relieved that he had managed to answer correctly when he'd been called on, Albus decided that while Zabini was definitely strict, there was no denying that he treated all his students with equal disdain. He found himself wondering if James had somehow managed to get himself on the Professor's bad side, since he'd spoken so disparagingly of the man.

 

“Homework will be an essay on the dangers of incorrect brewing and the required safety measures expected in this classroom,” Zabini finally announced. “It must fill at least ten inches of parchment, and I'll expect it by tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”

 

Scorpius collected his things and left without a word to Albus, and Felicia hurried over the second he was gone. She looked on the verge of tears. “He's scary,” she whimpered as they left the dungeon and began heading for Transfiguration. She'd squeaked out an incorrect answer when Zabini had called on her, and earned a scathing comment about inattention. “I got so scared, I couldn't remember what on earth he'd said about bat wings versus bat talons. And that horrible girl Delilah kept kicking me under the table.”

 

“Sorry,” Albus said sympathetically. “Maybe you can ask if he'll sit you with someone else.”

 

She shook her head quickly, eyes wide. “No, I couldn't. Besides, you heard him. He said we're stuck with our partners. What about you? I heard your brother last night saying that Malfoy might give you trouble.”

 

“His father didn't get along with ours,” Albus admitted. “They were at each others' throats all the time, the way Uncle Ron tells it. But he didn't even look at me all class. I guess that's better than him trying to turn me into a toad or something, but it's going to be a pain if he keeps it up when we have to actually work together on potions.”

 

“I don't even want to think about trying to make potions with that lot,” Felicia moaned. “Delilah's going to poison me, I just know it.”

 

They'd reached the Transfiguration classroom, and Albus felt a jolt of surprised delight when he spotted a flash of red hair. “We share the class with Ravenclaw! Come on, I want you to meet my cousin.”

 

He threaded his way through the students still milling about, looking for seats, and made his way over to Rose.

 

“Al!” She was practically glowing. “Al, the Ravenclaw tower is amazing! Did you know you have to answer a riddle just to get inside? And everyone there is so smart and nice; I'll have plenty of help if I ever get confused about something in class.” She sobered a moment later, her excitement turning into remorse. “I'm sorry. For not getting into Gryffindor. I wanted to see where the hat would place me, and when it said Ravenclaw, I just... well...”

 

“It's okay,” Albus said, forcing himself to smile.

 

“I wrote home about it last night. I hope Dad's not too disappointed. I saw James earlier. He...” Rose trailed off, looking upset.

 

Albus didn't need her to finish. He could guess. “Just ignore him,” he said firmly, feeling guilty for his own momentary resentment. “You're smart enough to be in Ravenclaw. That's more than James can say.”

 

She laughed, then seemed to finally notice Felicia hanging back, looking shy. As the two girls introduced themselves, a witch entered the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

 

“All right, class, settle down and find your seats,” she called.

 

Rose quickly slid into the nearest seat, and Felicia and Albus hastened to join her.

 

The teacher reached the front of the class, looking a little bleary eyed and still clutching a piece of toast in one hand. “Good morning, class, my name is Professor Switch. Welcome to Transfiguration.”

 

Rose looked down at her book, then quickly back up at the teacher. She raised her hand hesitantly. “Are you related to Emeric Switch, Professor?”

 

Professor Switch's mouth wavered on the edge of a smile. “Yes.” She waved her toast in a benign gesture. “You're the first to notice. Five points to Ravenclaw.” She turned to the board and flicked her wand, causing the chalk to start scribbling the syllabus on the blackboard.

 

Rose looked very pleased with herself.

 

“Hope she hands out points that easily all the time,” Albus murmured. “She already seems loads better than Zabini.”

 

Professor Switch didn't hand out points left and right as Albus had been hoping, but she did award Gryffindor five points as well near the end of class when a squeaky-voiced boy in the back was able to correctly name two of the laws of Transfiguration. She seemed laid back and perpetually on the verge of nodding off, and neglected to give them homework, instead suggesting that everyone take a look at the first chapter of their textbook when they got the chance.

 

“She was _definitely_ better than Zabini,” Albus said happily as they filed out of the classroom.

 

Rose frowned. “I hope she's not always like that. Maybe she should have had some stronger tea this morning. Transfiguration's supposed to be tricky. What if she's too busy yawning or waxing on about the time she turned her brother into a toadstool to correctly explain an incantation?”

 

“It's the first day, Rose,” Albus scoffed. “Maybe she spent the summer sleeping in really late every morning. It'll be fine.”

 

“Who's Emeric Switch?” Felicia asked. “You said she's related to him?”

 

Rose held up her textbook. “He's the author of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.” She smiled, looking pleased again. “I can't believe I already got some points for Ravenclaw. I can't wait to tell Molly.” She waved. “I'm off to Potions. Wish me luck.”

 

“We forgot to warn her that the Professor is pairing us with Slytherins,” Felicia said as Rose hurried off.

 

Albus winced. “Guess she'll find out the hard way. What class have we got next?”

 

~*~

 

The rest of the day went quickly. Zabini was the only one who assigned homework. Many other Professors advised reading some of the textbook, but Albus decided to take that as a suggestion rather than an order. There was no way he could get that many chapters read before bedtime _and_ write Zabini's essay on potion safety.

 

“We didn't get to do any magic,” Felicia said with obvious disappointment during dinner.

 

Roxanne had overheard her as she leaned over to grab the basket of rolls. “It's only the first day. They wanna get your feet wet, first. Don't worry, you'll be wagging your wands by tomorrow. Cheer up, you've got flying lessons tomorrow, right?”

 

Albus found his roast beef sticking in his throat. Flying lessons. He'd almost forgotten. Sure, his parents had snuck Albus and his siblings out to a secluded field a few times to show them some basics, but he was far from confident on a broomstick. Harry and Ginny were known as fantastic Quidditch players. What if he started flying around and fell off his broom or crashed immediately? James had already shown himself to be pretty decent in the air; it was why he was so determined to try out for the Quidditch team this year.

 

He noticed that Felicia also looked terrified, but it did little to make him feel better. She was muggle-born. She'd never even touched a flying broomstick before. No one would be surprised or disappointed if she couldn't get more than two feet off the ground. If Harry Potter's son took a nosedive, though... He pushed away the rest of his meal, his stomach too upset to risk eating any more. “I'm going to go ahead and get started on my Potions essay,” he muttered.

 

As he made his way out of the Hall, he glanced towards the Slytherin table. One or two of the upperclassmen caught him looking and jeered at him, and he hurried on. He hadn't seen Scorpius sitting with them. Perhaps he, too, wanted an early start on his homework.

 

At least there was one potential aggravation he wasn't going to have to worry about. If Scorpius had any plans to carry on his father's malicious grudge, he had yet to show it. The first year Gryffindors had shared both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes with the Slytherins, and he'd ended up seated near Scorpius again during Charms-- though thankfully they hadn't been paired together. Scorpius had continued to ignore him as if he wasn't even there.

 

Thinking of his Defense class made him wince. The Professor, Ernie Macmillan, had seemed pompous and annoying, and had been quick to tell Albus that he expected great things from him. James, he claimed, was one of his most promising students, a “real chip off the old block”.

 

“Good for James, Sir Perfect Perfectson,” he grumbled to himself. Then he stopped.

 

Up ahead, there was a small group of older students clumped together by a window, speaking in low voices. He recognized three of them as Gryffindors, but the other two were wearing Ravenclaw colors. Then a familiar red head turned his way.

 

“Hey, Fred,” he greeted, walking towards them. The others had shut up the instant they spotted him. “Not going to dinner?”

 

“In a minute, yeah.” Fred grinned at him, but looked a little shifty, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. “You?”

 

“I ate a little. I've got homework.” Albus glanced at the others, but they only gazed back solemnly. Feeling puzzled and a little uncomfortable, Albus bade Fred goodbye and hurried on. He glanced over his shoulder after a moment and saw they'd put their heads together and were whispering amongst themselves again.

 

He was so busy wondering what they were up to that he wasn't paying attention as he rounded a corner, and ran slap-bang into Scorpius Malfoy coming from the other direction.

 

Scorpius made a noise of disgust as he dropped the books he'd been carrying. “Watch it, Potter!”

 

“Sorry!” Flustered, Albus hastily dropped to a crouch and began snatching up the books. “I wasn't, uh...”

 

“Give me those.” Scorpius snatched the books from his hands, but not before Albus got a glimpse of the covers. They looked like library books on Transfiguration. Was Scorpius already intimidated enough by the class that he felt the need to study it more in-depth, or had he simply found the subject interesting? He opened his mouth to ask, then shut it again. The less he talked to Scorpius, he decided, the better.

 

Giving him a dirty look, Scorpius moved around him and continued on his way back towards the Great Hall. Albus blew out a sigh of relief. If Scorpius's animosity never got any worse than pointed glares, he would count himself lucky.

 

He heard a bang, a startled yell, and then an eruption of laughter from the direction Scorpius had gone. Turning, he hurried back around the corner.

 

Fred and his group were leaning on each other, gasping with laughter. Scorpius was picking himself off the ground, his books scattered across the floor. Fred's wand was out; whatever had happened, he'd been the culprit.

 

Albus bit the inside of his cheek and took a step back. It was none of his business. The rivalry between the two Houses was old and deep-seated. Anyway, Scorpius didn't look hurt. He backed away some more. He still had his homework to finish. Fred was always pulling pranks, there was nothing unusual about that.

 

Scorpius said something scathing, though Albus couldn't make out the words.

 

“What'd you say, runt?” one of the other Gryffindors demanded. “Fred, you hear what he called you?”

 

“S'okay, I can teach him some manners,” Fred said with a lazy little smirk, lifting his wand.

 

Albus started jogging down the hall before he could think better of it. “Hey, Scorpius!”

 

Fred and his friends hesitated, looking up quickly as he approached.

 

Albus forced himself to smile at Fred in greeting, then reached down to help gather Scorpius's books again. “I forgot to write down Zabini's assignment. What was it again? Something about antidotes?”

 

“Don't waste your breath on him, Al,” Fred said, but his friends were already muttering to each other and moving further down the hall. With a shrug, Fred followed.

 

Scorpius dusted off his robes, red-faced with fury and refusing to look directly at Albus. “Brewing safety practices,” he said through his teeth. “Which you know perfectly well, Potter.”

 

Albus flushed. “You're welcome.”

 

“I don't need your help!”

 

“You don't have to be such a jerk, you know.”

 

Scorpius looked at him as if he was an idiot. “My dad was your dad's nemesis. Don't tell me he never talked about it, and don't try to play nice.”

 

Privately Albus thought Draco Malfoy gave himself a bit too much credit. He'd heard the dismissive way his father spoke of the other man. Voldemort had been Harry's nemesis; Draco had been simply another bullying classmate. But he decided to let it slide for the moment. “Just because _they_ didn't get along doesn't mean _we_ can't be civil to one another,” he pointed out. “You don't have to keep acting like such a git every time I say hello. If we're going to be partners in Potions all year, we might as well get to know each other a bit.”

 

“You're in Gryffindor,” Scorpius said sneeringly, as if that explained everything.

 

“Yeah, so what?”

 

“ _So_ ,” Scorpius said, “Slytherins and Gryffindors don't 'get to know each other'.”

 

“Why not?” Albus demanded, annoyed. “We all go to the same school, don't we? What's it matter what House we're in? These rivalries are stupid.”

 

Scorpius stared at him for a long moment in disbelief. “Just leave me alone, won't you?” he snapped. He snatched up the rest of his books and hurried off before Albus could respond.

 

So much for avoiding a confrontation, Albus thought with a sigh. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaise Zabini was good enough at Potions to go to NEWT level while he was at Hogwarts, hence me shoving him into the position of Potions Professor.  
> Also, Rowling said in an interview that McGonagall retired sometime before Albus started attending school. Since Ministers for Magic are usually only in office for ~7 years, I thought Shacklebolt would be a good candidate for a replacement.
> 
> **NOTE.. I'm sticking the notes that were previously at the end of chapter 1 here because otherwise they keep showing up at the end of EVERY chapter:
> 
> I tried to avoid writing this, I really did. I actually wanted to write a fic like this shortly after the seventh book was released, and resisted the urge. But after re-reading the books again recently, I couldn't seem to get the series out of my head. I worried that it would distract me from my novel, or that the writing would turn out terrible, or that no one would even read it. And since I haven't even read any HP fanfiction in like... five years or more, I'm sure there are already a gazillion fics out there like this. But in the end, I spent so much time musing over who would be sorted into what House and who would be teaching at Hogwarts nineteen years later that I had to get it out of my head. I ended up making several pages of notes and outlines until by the end of the second day I basically had the first four years all mapped out. So I just gave up and decided to start writing the fic and hope for the best.
> 
> While I am doing each year in a separate fic (mostly to avoid the headache of cramming them all into one big file and then trying to think of a title for the whole thing), it's likely the first couple years will be pretty short ones. It wasn't until I started outlining 3 & 4 that the notes started getting long. And while this fic has a low rating, that rating is likely to go up with the later years.
> 
> Some of my decisions regarding certain things, such as the Hogwarts Professors, are explained in the  
> end-of-chapter notes. Also, I do skim over some things, as there's no need to build up information on Hogwarts that you all already know. In other words, the fic concentrates more on friendships than the day-to-day life at school, which is why I may jump around a lot during the first year.
> 
> Also, as stated in the summary, there will be eventual Albus/Scorpius as they get older, in follow-up fics.
> 
> For anyone unfamiliar, here's a quick list of children from the wiki:  
> Harry + Ginny= James, Albus, Lily  
> Ron + Hermione= Rose, Hugo  
> Bill + Fleur= Victoire, Dominique, Louis  
> Percy + Audrey= Molly, Lucy  
> George + Angelina= Fred, Roxanne  
> Draco + Astoria= Scorpius
> 
> Lily and Hugo are two years younger than Albus, so they don't show up right away. I had to use artistic liberty of most of the children's' ages. Victoire, for instance, is in her seventh year at the beginning of the fic. Ok, enough babbling. On with the train wreck.  
> ****


	3. Charms

Felicia laughed when Albus showed her his Potions essay the next morning.

"Is your handwriting always that big, or were you trying to make it easier to fill up ten inches of parchment?"

"The latter," Rose said, amused. She was walking partway with them before heading to her Charms class. "Your handwriting's usually awful, Al, but now it's almost illegible."

Albus made a face at them both, rolling the parchment back up. "I couldn't think of anything else to say. I made two rough drafts and never got it any longer than six or seven inches."

"Yeah, well, now you have to remember to write this large on all your Potions assignments, or the Professor will cotton on," Rose pointed out, shaking her head. "And watch yourself around Malfoy in class today."

Albus had already told them both about his encounter with Scorpius and Fred in the hall the previous night. Rose had suggested asking Roxanne what her brother was up to, but Albus didn't see the point. If Fred was up to some mischief, Roxanne was likely in on it.

"All right, I'd better go. Good luck!" With a wave, Rose turned down an adjacent hallway.

"I guess we're actually making potions today," Felicia said nervously as they entered the dungeon and saw that there were small cauldrons on the desks.

"If Delilah tries to get you to test her potion, don't," Albus muttered firmly.

He slid into his seat beside Scorpius, who didn't even deign to look at him. His eyes were already on the board, where Zabini had already laid a page number and a list of ingredients with a wave of his wand.

Albus turned to the indicted page and studied the potion there with unease. It didn't look overly complicated, but it would be his first attempt at potion-making. What if he blew something up or messed up so badly that Zabini called him on it in front of everyone?

"Quiet," Zabini said, and the students still getting settled and talking to each other across the room fell silent immediately. He gestured towards the board. "Turn to page seven. You'll be attempting to create a calming draught. It is used most often by healing witches to calm the nerves and regulate erratic heart rates. This is one of the easiest potions in the text, and will give me an idea of who in here will be doomed to fail in future assignments." He glared around at all of them. "The ingredients are in the cabinets at the back of the room. You may help your partner, but speak to no one else. Begin."

There was a mass scraping of chairs as everyone rushed to the cabinets and began grabbing ingredients, looking often towards the board. By the time Albus had loaded his arms with what he needed, Scorpius had already returned to his seat and was shaking powdered unicorn hooves into his cauldron.

Albus laid out his ingredients and read over the instructions carefully. He shot Scorpius a sideways look as he began twisting the jars off the little bottles. Zabini had said they could help each other, but Scorpius was intent on his work and showed no signs of needing help.

_Fine_ , he thought stubbornly, reaching for the cutting knife.  _He probably wouldn't help me, anyway. I can do this myself._

It was more complicated that he'd expected. As he soon discovered-- as did several others, if the sounds of distress were anything to go off of –potion-making required a deft hand. Every small mistake was enough to potentially spoil a potion, and several mistakes compounded served to ruin it completely. His cauldron gave a shrill hiss when he dumped in a handful of roots he hadn't chopped quite finely enough, and billowed green smoke when he accidentally put in the bee wings before the powdered unicorn hooves.

Scorpius seemed to be doing better, though at one point his potion gave an ominous gurgle and spat up several sticky globs that caused both boys to jump back in alarm.

Zabini, prowling up and down the classroom, seemed unsurprised by the difficulties so many students were having, though he made it a point to stop and comment snidely on anyone who'd manged to botch their potion up completely.

"And who in their right mind would give  _that_ to a patient, Potter?" he demanded. He was glaring down into Albus's cauldron, where the potion had formed into a smoking damp lump of tar. "You do understand that this potion is intended to heal a patient and not kill them, yes?"

Albus gripped his stirring spoon and said nothing, his face burning.

Zabini leaned over Scorpius's cauldron and wrinkled his nose at the stench. "If the instructions specify a certain number of stirs between ingredients, Malfoy, it's for a reason. Anyone stupid enough to drink this would spend the rest of the day vomiting it back up. Perhaps the both of you should attempt to actually read the instructions next time."

Scorpius scowled, but didn't respond. Albus found himself clenching his teeth. Zabini was being, in his opinion, unnecessarily harsh towards a class of students who had probably never even used a cauldron before.

"What's he expect on our first go?" he grumbled as Zabini moved on to berate Andrew, who had managed to get half the ingredients all over the desk instead of in the cauldron. Scorpius glanced at him briefly, but didn't respond.

In the end, only two students managed to make a potion that didn't promise to cause death or violent stomach spasms, and one boy was able to make it perfectly.

"Ten points to Slytherin," Zabini murmured after tasting a drop of the boy's potion. "At least there's someone here who isn't a complete waste of my time. The rest of you will write an essay on the importance of following directions and explain what you did wrong. Seven inches of parchment, due tomorrow. Dismissed. Make sure you put your ingredients back on the way out."

"Prat," Scorpius said under his breath, and left in such a huff that he forgot his ingredients.

Felicia came over to help Albus, who was trying to carry his ingredients and Scorpius's. "That was awful," she sniffled, looking humiliated. "Delilah dumped something in my cauldron while I wasn't looking, so it got ruined before I'd even started. Not that it matters. I forgot to let it sit for thirty seconds after adding the moss, and I put in four bee wings instead of five..."

"It was our first try," Albus said soothingly, putting the last of the jars away and leading the way out of the classroom. "I figured no one would do well. Zabini didn't have to be so harsh about it."

They told Rose all about the disastrous lesson as they settled into their seats in Transfiguration. Rose frowned, looking uneasy. "I thought Potions would be interesting, but now I'm worried. I don't want a Professor yelling at me on my second day."

"He doesn't yell," Felicia said, "he just... kind of makes you look like an idiot in front of everyone. But he does it to all of us, so..."

"I feel loads better," Rose groaned. Then Professor Switch wandered in, looking only marginally more alert than the previous day, and they were too distracted by the lesson to give Zabini another thought.

The rest of the day was interesting, but stressful. No one could get their toads to turn into frogs, though Rose managed to turn hers yellow, and Andrew somehow made his toad shoot five feet into the air.

History of Magic was as dull as it had been the previous day. The lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts was somewhat interesting, but mostly just required memorization on the habits of garden gnomes and another homework assignment. Felicia found it a lot more intriguing than Albus-- but then, he reminded himself, she'd probably never seen a gnome before.

It wasn't until Charms class after lunch that Albus finally caught a break.

"Today we'll be learning a simple charm that I'm sure many of you have seen your parents use around the house," Professor Flitwick squeaked. "It will be one of the most useful spells you will learn. Don't be discouraged if you have difficulty with it. It's perfectly normal for first years to struggle at first. Remember, practice makes perfect." He picked up his teacup, drank the last of it, and looked around the room. "Today we will learn the repairing charm. Repeat after me:  _reparo_ ." The class repeated it obediently. Flitwick took out his wand and demonstrated the simple flick. "And now just the wand motion, go on... Good. Right, a demonstration, then..."

He dropped his teacup, and it shattered on the floor. Several students leaned over or stood up to see better. Flitwick pointed at the broken teacup with his wand. " _Reparo_ ." The cup obediently pulled itself together again, and Flitwick held it up for the class to see.

"Ooo!" Felicia said excitedly. "That  _does_ look useful."

"Right, I'll need a few volunteers..." Flitwick waved towards Felicia. "You three, you'll do. Come up here, please." He dropped his cup again, and it split in two.

Rose, Albus, and Felicia hesitantly approached the front of the classroom. Flitwick smiled encouragingly. "Go on, give it a try."

Felicia pointed her trembling wand at the teacup. " _R-reparo_ ."

The cup didn't even twitch, but Flitwick didn't seem surprised. He nodded to Rose, and she drew out her own wand.

" _Reparo_ !" she said firmly.

The cup shifted slightly, but didn't repair itself. Rose looked disappointed.

"Right, then. Potter, is it? Your turn."

Trying to ignore all the eyes on him, Albus pointed his wand at the broken pieces. " _Reparo_ ."

"Well done!" Flitwick crowed as the two pieces leapt together. He raised the fixed cup up to the class, and everyone applauded. "Good show, Potter, good show. First try, most impressive. Five points to Gryffindor. Right, back to your seats now. If you'll all look in the boxes on your desk you'll find some broken pieces of chalk. Practice until the end of class. Remember to speak clearly!"

Albus settled in his seat, feeling happy. Finally, he'd managed to do well in a class.

"Maybe you have a knack for Charms," Rose said, handing out the broken chalk to the two of them. "That was pretty good, Al."

"This is a great spell," Felicia said, eagerly arranging her chalk pieces in front of her. "It has so many uses. I wonder what other stuff we'll learn." She continued babbling happily about magic, and by the end of the class had managed to at least get her chalk pieces to wiggle half-heartedly at each other. She didn't seem discouraged by her failure to get the spell to work, however. Albus could get the spell right every time, and after the first half hour, Rose and another Ravenclaw had succeeded as well. But everyone else was still shouting uselessly at their chalk.

"They grew up around magic and they can't do it right off, either," she said with a determined glint in her eye as the class dispersed. "I'll get it sooner or later."

"Come on," Rose said, urging them down the stairs. "Today we have flying lessons."

Albus had been so caught up in his other classes that he'd almost forgotten. He felt his happiness crushed under another wave of anxiety. Felicia seemed just as scared.

"What if I fall off? What if I can't stop? How do you steer? Have you ever been on a broom?" She pestered Rose with questions all the way to the lawn.

"Look." Rose nodded to their instructor once she'd finally managed to fend Felicia off. "That's Cho Chang. Didn't your dad date her once?"

"I dunno. Maybe." It made Albus uncomfortable to think he was about to meet someone who had once locked lips with his father.

"I heard she married a muggle," Rose continued, blind to his discomfort. "She wasn't good enough for a national Quidditch team, so when she found out her daughter was a witch, she applied here so she could keep an eye on her and still fly regularly."

"Why do you know so much about her personal life?" Albus grumbled.

"Because I listen, Al," Rose said impatiently. "Mum and Dad start talking a lot about their time at Hogwarts and their old school friends every July. I figured your folks do the same."

"Slytherin's here, too," Felicia whispered, and following her gaze, Albus spotted Scorpius standing with a clump of Slytherins.

"All the first years are," Rose said, pointing out some Hufflepuffs.

Professor Chang smiled at the class as everyone grouped around her, shifting their feet nervously and eyeing the brooms laid out for them in the grass. "Good afternoon, class. I'm Professor Chang. Everyone find a broomstick. We'll be starting off easy, so don't be nervous."

The class was a small chaos, but at least no one crashed or broke any bones. Half the class managed to get their brooms to carry them a few feet into the air as instructed fairly quickly, while the others jumped uselessly in place. By the end of the class, everyone was able to hover, and two boys kept swooping towards each other whenever Cho's back was turned.

Albus was relieved to find that he was able to keep his broom fairly steady, though he still kept going tense whenever the broom tried to wander off to the left on its own. Scorpius seemed to be doing all right as well, though his hands were locked around his broomstick so hard his knuckles were white.

Finally Cho instructed them to land, reaching up to pull down those having trouble. "All right, not bad. See, not so scary. Meet here again same time on Friday. I'll be taking you up in pairs to get some real flying done."

"That was amazing!" Felicia gasped, flushed with excitement as they returned indoors. "I flew! I actually flew! Wait until I tell my mom about this, she'll never believe me."

 

~*~

 

The first week passed in a rush, and Albus began to feel more confident. While he still struggled horribly in Potions and kept nodding off in History of Magic, he was doing very well in Charms. He even managed to do all right that Friday during flying lessons, though he landed so hard he fell off his broom and nearly sprained his ankle. Herbology was strange, but at least he got to say hello to Neville. Transfiguration was proving very difficult, and he'd accidentally hit Professor Macmillan in the head with a book when trying to swat away a brownie in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but at least he no longer felt pressured to do great in every class. The other first years were struggling as much as he was, and with Felicia constantly excited about every new magical spell or fact they learned, it was hard to be frustrated by failure for long.

He was looking forward to the weekend until Felicia brought him back down to earth with a bump.

"We've got homework in Potions, History of Magic, Transfiguration,  _and_ Charms," she reminded him Friday evening. "If we do it all before lunch tomorrow, we can have the rest of the weekend off."

"Sure," he said glumly, thinking of the essays and research waiting for him as he watched Roxanne and Fred juggling to amuse a group of first years. Everyone was gathered in the Gryffindor common room, relaxing after their exhausting first week. Albus glanced around, wondering at James's absence. He'd been ducking out almost every evening and not returning until close to curfew. Fred and Roxanne as well. This was the first time he'd seen them both present since Monday.

"Zabini's a wart," Andrew said angrily, dropping down into the armchair across from Albus and tossing his bag carelessly to the ground. "Did you notice he gave me extra work today just because I made a stupid mistake?"

"You made your cauldron explode," Felicia said slowly. "If the Professor hadn't reacted so quickly, you'd be in the hospital wing."

"It's because of that Slytherin he paired me with," Andrew insisted, slouching down in his chair and scowling at the floor. "Sam Hawley. He's got troll breath, and he's always knocking into me on purpose so I mess up. If he wasn't built like a house, I'd throw something extra in his potion and see how  _he_ likes it."

"Delilah keeps whispering horrible things to me to make me slip up," Felicia sighed. "And that's when she's not stomping on my feet under the desk." She pulled out her wand and began practicing the swish and flick motion Flitwick had taught them that day. "Scorpius doesn't seem very friendly, but I think I'd trade partners with you in a heartbeat, Albus."

"He doesn't help me any."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't hinder you, either."

Albus shrugged. "He refuses to even talk to me. Zabini may have stuck us all together, but he hasn't really been pressing the whole 'help your neighbor' thing."

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," Felicia murmured, flicking her wand hopefully at a wadded-up piece of parchment. She pulled a long face when it refused to budge. "How does this come so easy to you?"

Albus shrugged, secretly pleased. "I'm average or rubbish at just about everything else here, so I'm not complaining." He mimicked Felicia's wand movement with his own. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ."

They watched as the parchment rose slowly into the air. After a few moments, Andrew swatted it neatly into the fireplace. "I'm off to bed," he said, yawning. "I'm not staying up to do any homework. My brain's too full already."

"Right." Albus grabbed his bag, glad for the excuse to put off studies for the time being. Felicia put her wand away after a slight hesitation and gathered her own things.

Albus paused as he passed his cousins. They were now juggling the bright balls between each other at lightning speed. "Where's James?"

"Out 'n' about," Fred replied without taking his eyes off the balls. "Don't be nosy."

"He's with the fifth House," Roxanne laughed.

Fred aimed a ball at her chin, and she yelped, fumbling the other balls.

Albus frowned. "The what?"

"I was joking," Roxanne muttered, rubbing her chin.

"Yeah, it was a joke," Fred agreed, making shooing motions. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

Albus hesitated, but the siblings had already started their juggling trick again, and the watching first years were applauding enthusiastically. He climbed the steps to the boys' dormitory, wondering at Roxanne's comment. There was no fifth House. Had she really just been blowing hot air? Or did this have something to do with Fred and those other older students whispering in the hallway the other day?

He mulled it over as he got ready for bed, but the moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the years the cousins are in, since someone asked on another site:  
> 1st years- Albus, Rose, Scorpius  
> 2nd- James, Molly, Roxanne  
> 3rd- Louis  
> 4th- Fred  
> 5th- Dominique  
> 7th- Victoire


	4. The Fifth House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason my first chapter notes now keep popping up at the end of every chapter... Sorry, I'll mess with it later and try to figure out why it keeps doing that.

Albus had every intention of putting his homework off as long as possible, but Felicia had other ideas. As they finished their breakfast Saturday morning she said, “I think we should do our homework in the library with your cousin. That way we can help each other and finish it faster. Andrew's already agreed; he thinks having someone from Ravenclaw as a study partner will help a lot.”

“Have fun with that,” James said from further down the table, flicking a toast crust at Albus's head. “Rox and I are off to try out for the Quidditch team.”

“Wish us luck,” Roxanne said excitedly as she and James crammed their toast in their mouths and got up to leave.

“We don't need luck,” James laughed. “We're awesome.”

“Bet you five galleons he's trying out for Beater,” Albus muttered, picking the crust out of his hair. “He'd love the chance to smack bludgers at people for a laugh. Knocking some Slytherin off their broom would make his week.”

They retrieved their books from their rooms, gathered a still bleary-eyed Andrew, and set off for the library. Rose and Molly had already claimed a table and covered it with books and scrolls.

“Good, you can help me with my Charms homework,” Molly said in relief as the others took their seats. “Rose tells me you're great at it.”

“But you're a year ahead of us,” Albus pointed out. “You're doing things we haven't even learned yet.”

Molly made a face at her parchment. “I did okay last year, but this week I haven't been able to do a single spell correctly in that class because the Slytherins spend so much time picking on some of the more shy Ravenclaws and trying to get them to cry while the Professor's nodding off at her desk.”

“You could always practice on the Slytherins,” Andrew advised with a grin.

“Tempting,” Molly sighed. “Anyway, I guess you're right, Al. But you can help Rose instead.” She looked glumly at her Charms assignment.

“Right, Al, you help me with Charms and I'll help with your Potions homework,” Rose said firmly. “It'll make it go faster.”

Albus looked at her in surprise. “Are you doing all right in Potions? All I've been brewing is poison. I think Zabini's going to make me drink it next time I mess up.”

“She's doing really well,” Molly said proudly. “Even Zabini hasn't been able to find anything bad to say.

Rose smiled. “He even ended up giving me a couple points yesterday, though he looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.”

“He's a prat, but at least he's fair,” Felicia admitted, taking out her Potions notes. “I mean, he's just as mean to the Slytherins as he is to us.”

“I still wish he'd fall in the lake and get eaten by the giant squid,” Andrew grumbled.

They bent over their books and spent the next two hours trying to get as much homework done as possible. If Molly and Rose hadn't been there to offer help and encouragement, Albus would have thrown in the towel early. As it was, they were still doing research for History of Magic when Andrew finally slammed his book shut and got to his feet.

“Right, that's it. I'm going crazy. It's too nice outside for this. I'll finish it tomorrow. See you.”

 Albus watched him go in dismay. With Andrew leaving, that left him the only boy at the table. He stared down at his half-written essay and sighed.

 “I wanted to see if James and Roxanne made it onto the team.”

 “We'll find out later,” Rose said firmly, tapping his parchment meaningfully with her quill. “Come on, you're halfway done with this. Then there's just the Defense essay on poltergeists and we're done.”

 It took another hour, but at last they were finished. Albus put his head on the table, feeling as if his brains were leaking out of his ears.

 “But look, now we have the rest of the weekend to relax,” Felicia pointed out cheerfully. “Wasn't it worth it?”

 Albus made an unintelligible noise, voice muffled against the table.

 Rose laughed, giving his shoulder a playful push. “Come on, help me put these books away.”

 “I need to get back to the common room,” Molly said, collecting her homework. “Dominique is already worried about her OWLs, and she wanted me to start quizzing her on some things. See you.”

 Felicia and Albus helped Rose put away their books, then they parted to return their bags to their dormitories. “I'll meet you in the front lawn in an hour and we can go visit Hagrid,” Rose suggested, waving.

 Felicia looked a little intimidated. “Hagrid's the big man who was there at the boats the first day, right?”

 Albus led the way up the stairs, smiling a little. He was so used to Hagrid, he'd forgotten how frightening he could seem to people the first time. “Yeah. He's a really old friend of my dad's. He visits us most holidays. He's a good guy, you'll like him. Though, uh, I wouldn't recommend eating anything he's cooked himself.”

 Felicia suddenly grabbed the back of his robes, pulling him up short. “Shh! What was that?”

 “What was what?”

 “Listen! It sounds like someone's crying.”

 Albus stood still, straining his ears. Sure enough, he could hear what sounded like faint sniffling sounds coming from nearby. “Maybe someone's homesick.” He topped the stairs and took a left, away from the Gryffindor tower. There was a small figure huddled on a bench next to a suit of armor, hands covering his face. In the portrait above his head, a kindly looking witch was murmuring comfort.

 “Are you all right?” Felicia asked softly.

 The boy jumped, startled, and scrambled to his feet. Albus spotted the familiar green and white tie and frowned. “What's a Slytherin doing up here?”

 “Albus!” Felicia said, sounding aghast at his rudeness. “Look at his face!”

 The boy's face was covered in disgusting oozing sores. As they watched, several of them swelled up like balloons before popping messily.

 “Eww!” Felicia squealed, backing away.

 Already feeling bad over his outburst, Albus held up a calming hand when the boy started to shuffle away from them, looking wretched. “Wait. Are you all right? What happened?”

 “Someone jinxed him, of course,” the witch in the portrait said sternly. “Honestly... jinxing first years! It's bullying, plain and simple.”

 “Hah!” Albus turned. A man in a beaded hat in a portrait further down the hall was shaking his head. “Can't say he didn't ask for it, eh? You didn't hear what he was saying to those students earlier. A little retaliation's nothing to cry over. Should watch your manners next time, eh, boy?”

A bit of Albus's sympathy waned. “Look, just go to the hospital wing, they'll fix you up. And maybe you shouldn't be rude to people if you don't want to get jinxed.”

The boy fled. Felicia frowned at Albus in disapproval.

“Haven't you ever heard that phrase about sticks and stones? Jinxing someone just because they were rude seems a little extreme to me.”

“Depends on what he said,” Albus said, unmoving. “Come on. Let's put our stuff away.”

 

**~*~**

 

They met up with Rose and spent an amusing time at Hagrid's until lunch. It wasn't until they were lying out in the grass, enjoying the sun that afternoon, that Albus remembered the strange thing Roxanne had said the previous night.

“Rose, have you ever heard of a fifth House?”

Rose blinked sleepily at him, arms behind her head. “A what?”

“A fifth House. You know, here at Hogwarts. Roxanne said something about it.”

Rose frowned, thinking. “No. I can ask Dominique about it. But she was probably just pulling your leg. A lot of students pull silly pranks on first years; Louis warned me on the train. When he first got here, Fred tried to convince him there was a huge swimming pool on the roof of the astronomy tower. They got detention for a week because Louis got caught sneaking up there at night for a swim.”

“Speaking of Fred and Roxanne...” Felicia sat up, shading her eye and pointing. “Here comes your brother with them, Albus. They look pretty excited.”

Albus rolled onto his stomach to look. The trio was headed their way, whooping and back-slapping.

“We made it!” James shouted the moment he was in hearing distance.

“Say hello to your new House Catcher!” Roxanne crowed, pumping her fists in the air in victory.

“And Beater!” James made a mocking bow.

“Congratulations,” Rose said, sitting up. “I almost feel sorry for the other teams.”

The three of them laughed and collapsed in the grass nearby.

“You made the team again?” Rose asked Fred.

“Pfft, of course.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Regina had to do tryouts to avoid showing favoritism, but she said she knew I'd get it. I blew all the other Beater potentials out of the water. And James almost gave poor Paul Simkin a concussion with a bludger.”

“And I scored the most goals,” Roxanne declared, puffing out her chest proudly. Her brother shoved her over playfully.

“What did you mean last night by a fifth House?” Albus asked, hoping to catch them off guard.

“Don't worry about it, pipsqueak,” Fred laughed.

“Yeah, no first years allowed,” James chimed in.

Rose, Felicia, and Albus exchanged quick looks.

“Are you just trying to trick him?” Rose asked sternly. “Like you did with Louis and the swimming pool?”

Roxanne and Fred fell against each other laughing. “I almost forgot about that!”

“His face was priceless!”

Albus turned his attention on his brother. “No first years allowed in _what_?”

“Never you mind, runt,” James said, ruffling his hair. Albus pulled away, annoyed. “You've got bigger things to worry about, like not getting poisoned in Zabini's class. I hear you're not doing too well. _And_ you're stuck with Malfoy as a partner. Let me know if he tries to get you in trouble in class. I'll get 'im back for you.”

Albus frowned at him. “Scorpius doesn't even talk to me, let alone pay any attention to how I'm doing in class.”

“Ohh it's 'Scorpius' now, is it?” Roxanne chuckled.

James frowned back at his brother. “Malfoy's trouble, just like his father. Steer clear of him. I don't want you letting your guard down around him in some hallway and ending up in the hospital wing.”

“That reminds me...” Felicia quickly told the others about the Slytherin boy she and Albus had found in the hall.

Fred and the other two started laughing again.

“It's not funny!” Felicia cried. “He looked awful--” But they only laughed harder.

“Come on,” Fred finally said, gasping for breath. “Let's get some food. We missed lunch.”

“Be good, Alby~” James called, following the siblings back towards the castle.

“I'm starting to think one of them had something to do with it,” Felicia muttered, looking put-out.

“I wouldn't put it past Fred,” Albus admitted. “He did something to Scorpius the other day in the hall. He's always been quick to jinx anyone who rubs him the wrong way. Roxanne, too. I'm sure they've been teaching James a lot of new tricks.”

“We don't know that,” Rose interrupted. “Maybe they just heard about it already and think it's funny. They have a weird sense of humor.”

“I still want to know what they're talking about with that fifth House,” Albus said.

Rose sighed. “Come on, they're obviously just kidding around.”

“I'm not saying there's literally a fifth House; I just think it's their name for something they're not telling us about.”

“Even if it does mean something, they're obviously not going to explain it.” Rose got up, dusting off her robes. “I'd better go. Molly wanted to play wizard chess this afternoon.”

 

**~*~**

 

Once the anxiety and the uncertainty of the first week was over, the following days seemed to fly by. Albus got marginally better in Potions, though he still couldn't seem to get anything better than an “Acceptable” on his homework assignments, and had yet to make a perfect potion. He continued to impress Professor Flitwick in Charms, and by the time the final week of flying lessons came, he felt much more comfortable on a broom.

Study groups with his Ravenclaw cousins became a regular occurrence, mostly so he could beg Rose for help with his Potions homework. James, Roxanne, and Fred still mysteriously disappeared for hours at a time in the evenings, but Albus stopped paying attention. He was too busy with his own friends and classes, and, as Rose pointed out, the three of them were probably just practicing for Quidditch.

Twice more he caught glimpses of students suffering pain or embarrassment from jinxes, and once a student's bag suddenly flew into the air and scattered her books everywhere in the middle of stairwell.

“Pranks like that are normal around here,” Louis told him when the two ran into each other after Herbology. Though in his third year, Louis was so interested in the subject that he often dropped by the greenhouse to check on some of the plants or talk with Neville between classes. “People get into arguments or want to show off, and someone ends up jinxed. The school is full of kids with wands, what do you expect to happen?”

Albus watched warily as Louis moved a growling potted flower to a higher shelf. “Yeah, but haven't you noticed it's only happening to Slytherins?”

Louis pulled off his protective gloves, watching Albus carefully. “Tabitha Sparking got hit by a jinx in the Great Hall and had to go to the hospital wing because she started sprouting feathers out of her ears. And she's in my House. Apparently she flirted with someone's boyfriend. It's not just Slytherins, Al. I'm telling you, there's nothing suspicious going on. You just aren't used to seeing it all the time. It'll be old hat by the time you're in your second year.” He tossed the gloves aside. “Besides, some would say the Slytherins kind of have it coming. Usually they're the ones jinxing people left and right just for laughs. You'll feel less sorry for them when Quidditch starts. The Slytherin team always tries to hex the opposing team before a match.”

Albus thought of Delilah making Felicia's time in Potions a nightmare and let it drop. Besides, Louis was probably right. Just because all the ones he'd seen were Slytherins didn't mean they were being specifically targeted.

Two days later, Zabini lost his patience with what he clearly considered to be a class completely made up of inept children, temporarily driving away all thoughts of jinxes and Houses from Albus's mind.

He stood at the front of the classroom, holding up a stack of the previous night's homework and glaring around at all of them. “The next time I'm forced to grade such a horrific assignment or suffer the stench of another failed potion, I'm going to start taking points from Houses and doubling homework. You were seated by partners for a reason. You do not learn potion making by trial and error. You learn by _following the instructions_.” He dropped the homework into the trash. A few students made noises of distress. Albus looked across the aisle at Felicia, who looked to be near tears. They had spent over an hour on that assignment.

Zabini began prowling up and down the aisle, hands behind his back, face a cold mask of disapproval. “When you know the ins and outs of potions, trial and error is expected. Experimentation is a given. For beginners who are barely able to recognize the difference between a lima bean and a bezoar, you are expected to do exactly as the book tells you to. If you would follow the instructions precisely, you would stop embarrassing yourselves. If you would bother to check with your partner when you're uncertain of something, you wouldn't fill the air with so much noxious smoke.”

“If the teacher would actually teach us, we wouldn't have to rely on a stupid book,” Scorpius muttered, glaring at the desk. Albus shot him a quick look, biting his tongue. The same thought had crossed his mind, but he'd never have dared voice it, even so quietly.

But Zabini heard at least part of it. He came striding over to their desk, eyes narrowed. “What was that, Malfoy?” he barked, causing Scorpius to jump.

Albus felt a rush of anger. “He said maybe if you'd actually teach us instead of just telling us to read a book, we'd be doing better!”

A few students gasped. Felicia clapped her hands over her mouth, staring at Albus in horror. A deathly silence fell over the room.

Albus stared up at Zabini, horrified by his own burst of temper. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scorpius sink down in his seat.

Zabini stared at Albus for a long time, his expression dangerous. “Detention, Potter,” he said softly. “And you as well, Malfoy. You will both meet back here after dinner this Friday.” He turned on his heel and marched towards his desk. “Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

There were a few groans, but everyone shut up when Zabini turned to face the class again. He looked left and right, face dark with suppressed anger. “If you cannot learn to follow simple instructions in a book, you will never follow along with anything a true potions master has to say. Nor are you worth the trouble. Now turn to page ninety-seven. If I hear any more useless whining, that person will lose their House ten points. Anyone that botches up their potion completely loses another ten points, and you and the person beside you will fail the lesson for not utilizing your lab partner. Begin.”

Albus put his face in his hands, gritting his teeth. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? He'd agreed with Scorpius, but now they were both in trouble. He should have just let Scorpius take the fall for his own comment. He could feel the other students glaring daggers at him.

“You're thick, Potter,” Scorpius hissed.

Albus lowered his hands, looking at the other boy in surprise. It was the first time Scorpius had addressed him during class since the first day. “Well, you had a point,” he muttered. “And Zabini rubs me the wrong way.”

Scorpius just shook his head and opened his book. “That's because he's a pus-filled goblin,” he muttered under his breath.

Albus stuffed his knuckles in his mouth to choke off a startled laugh. Shooting a nervous glance towards Zabini to make sure he hadn't been heard, he took out his own textbook and flipped to the correct page. He stared at the instructions, reading them twice over. He'd never managed to brew a potion successfully. How was following instructions supposed to make up for a lack of talent? He reached for the first ingredient, then put it back down with a wince. It was the first in the list, but not the first thing the instructions directed him to use. _I get too impatient_ , he realized. _I get nervous and impatient and lose track of what I'm doing or don't pay enough attention to what the directions say_.

He reached instead for the taproot sap and very carefully measured it out.

Scorpius glanced over. “That's the wrong spoon,” he muttered.

Albus made a face. “It's a spoon. It says one spoonful.”

Scorpius snatched up another spoon and wagged it in Albus's face irritably. “You don't use wooden spoons for liquid ingredients,” he said through his teeth. “You use glass ones. It was on the first damned page of the chapter we read for homework the _first day_. No wonder you're rubbish at this.”

Albus blinked, then took the spoon. “Thanks...”

“You heard him-- if you mess up, _I_ get a failing grade, too,” Scorpius snapped.

Albus glared back. “You've messed up your potions plenty of times, too.”

“Not nearly as often as you,” Scorpius shot back.

They glared at each other for a few moments before Albus finally took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Help me with mine first, and then I'll help you with yours.”

“Forget it,” Scorpius said immediately. “We won't have time to do mine and I'll _still_ fail.”

“Then we'll do yours first,” Albus said, forcing himself to keep his voice calm. “I'll read you the instructions, and you make the potion. Then we'll trade while I make my potion. Deal?”

Scorpius eyed him suspiciously. “Read it _exactly_ ,” he commanded at last. “Every word.”

“Yeah, yeah, every word, I got it.” Albus set aside his sap and snatched up the book. “Don't ask me to repeat everything, got it?”

“Just read, Potter.”

Still scowling, Albus began reading the instructions as Scorpius followed along.

When Zabini came around to check on everyone's work, he checked both their potions carefully, offered them a flat look, and moved on without a word.

It was the first time Albus had passed a Potions lesson.


	5. Detention and Retaliation

It wasn't until that evening, listening to the Gryffindor Quidditch team go over strategies, that Albus realized just how thorough Zabini's punishment was. James had apparently already heard the news, because as soon as he could pull himself away from the meeting, he cornered his brother by the window.

"You got detention for _Friday_? You'll miss our first game!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Albus said quickly. "I wanted to watch, I did. I just... couldn't keep my mouth shut in front of Zabini, I guess. Scorpius only said what we were all thinking, so I--"

"Malfoy? This is _his_ fault?" James threw his arms up in disgust. "I told you that worm was trouble! Zabini stuck him with you because he knew it'd get you into trouble sooner or later."

"It wasn't like that," Albus insisted. "Anyway, it kind of worked out. We had to cooperate during class after that, and I actually managed to make a decent po--"

But James wasn't listening. "I'll talk to Zabini," he said with a glint in his eye. "He can reschedule it or something."

"Don't. You know he won't listen. What if _you_ end up right there in detention with me? Your team will murder you if they lose one of their Beaters on the first game of the year."

James scowled. "Fine. Never mind. Just _don't_ give him an excuse to give you detention again. If you end up missing our second match as well--"

"I won't, I won't." Albus watched as James returned to his team, feeling guilty. He hadn't realized how much James wanted him to be there to cheer him on. Was it because he loved showing off, or was he more nervous about his debut on the Quidditch field than he let on?

Felicia looked up from where she was sitting nearby, her small form sinking into the big armchair. She'd been staring at her Charms homework, but he could tell she'd heard everything. "He's really disappointed, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Albus muttered, dropping into the chair across from her and slouching down. "Now I've really got to watch it in Potions. I'm starting to think Zabini made detention this Friday on purpose. He's got to know half my family's on the Quidditch team."

Felicia glanced towards James, who was joking around with Roxanne. "He sounded pretty mad at Malfoy. He can't talk Zabini down, and obviously can't do anything to him, but... Well, you don't think he'll try to get back at Malfoy, do you?"

Albus shook his head. "I'm the one that opened my fat mouth. This is between me and Zabini. James will sulk for awhile, but he'll get over it. Besides, he's got to keep his nose clean so he doesn't risk missing the game as well."

Felicia frowned slightly, but let it drop. "I saw Rose earlier. She said she asked your cousin Dominique about this fifth House Roxanne mentioned. Dominique said she's been hearing rumors about it, but nothing concrete. She thinks it's some kind of secret club or something. Apparently there's a few Ravenclaws who are being pretty secretive lately, and she heard one of them mention it." She returned her attention to her homework. "Whatever it is, I doubt we'll be able to find out much more about it. If it is a club, it'll probably go away as people lose interest or get caught up in schoolwork later in the year."

"James and the others know about it. I'll just have to find a way to get one of them to talk."

"What does it matter?" Felicia sighed with a hint of impatience. "I mean, it was a little curious at first, but it has nothing to do with us. And you heard your brother-- no first years allowed. Maybe it's a Quidditch fan club or something."

A little irritated by her lack of interest, Albus dug his own homework out of his bag and focused on his essay rather than get into an argument.

 

~*~

 

On Friday, as the rest of the school headed eagerly for the Quidditch pitch after dinner, Albus made his way glumly down towards the dungeon.

He hadn't been excited about the game until it sank home that he wouldn't be allowed to go. Listening to the other students talk about it all week, seeing James and the others discuss strategy, and watching everyone heading outside waving little flags and banners with either the Hufflepuff or Gryffindor colors made it sink in how much fun he'd be missing. He should be up in the stands cheering on his brother, not sitting in a dank basement doing tedious things for a malicious Professor.

Zabini was already waiting for him when he arrived dragging his feet. He gestured to a table filled with jars. They looked like they'd been on a shelf for ages. They were covered in dust. Most of them didn't have labels, and the few remaining ones were yellowed and had spiky handwriting that was difficult to read.

"You'll be doing inventory. Toss out anything that's gone bad, and relabel each bottle." Zabini pointed at the thick leather-bound book at the edge of his desk. "Use this to identify any ingredients you don't recognize. I'll be checking your work when you're done; you won't be leaving until it's all done correctly."

Albus picked up the heavy book, looking from it to the table of jars in mounting anger and dismay. There had to be over fifty bottles. Well, at least he'd have help.

"Get started," Zabini said without looking up from the homework he was grading. "Don't wait for Malfoy."

Gritting his teeth, Albus reached for the nearest bottle and began struggling to pull out the cork.

Forty minutes into the tedious work, and his frustration had doubled. A lot of the corks were stuck tight, and identifying the contents was a nightmare. Sometimes he could identify something by sight, but then had to look it up in the book to find out their shelf life. Most things he didn't recognize at all and had to attempt to identify by smell or touch, and then had to find each one in the book. A lot of them smelled really bad, but he soon discovered this was not usually an indication of whether or not it was still good.

Where the hell was Malfoy? Had he skipped out on detention and left Albus to do it all alone? Things would go much faster with two people, but instead the little snake had gone off to the game and was probably laughing at his misfortune. Albus was starting to regret ever defending Scorpius to James in any way.

He looked up as someone knocked sharply on the open door. It was Professor Sinistra, the head of Slytherin House. She barely spared Albus a look, speaking in her dry, unhurried voice. "Excuse me, Professor. I've just dropped by to tell you Mr. Malfoy won't be able to attend detention this evening."

Frowning, Zabini got up and went over to the door so they could speak privately. Albus returned his eyes to his work, but listened hard.

"Mr. Malfoy is in the hospital wing," Sinistra said quietly. "Nothing serious; just a mild jinx. It's uncertain who delivered it, since the halls were so crowded with students heading outdoors. I've told him to head down here as soon as he's released to either serve detention tonight or get a new time from you."

"Unless he's bleeding from every orifice, I don't see why he should be excused," Zabini said coolly. "He can still sort bottles with twigs for hair or whatever nonsense he's dealing with."

"If you have a bucket and don't mind listening to the boy vomit slugs for the next couple hours, I'll be sure to send him here directly."

Zabini made a noise of impatience. "Never mind. I'll reschedule. Good evening."

Albus glanced up as Sinistra nodded and left, then hastily averted his gaze as Zabini returned to his desk. Barfing up slugs... why did that sound so familiar?

"Watch what you're doing, Potter," Zabini snapped.

Albus realized he'd been so distracted he'd spilled half a jar's worth of black salt all over his hand. "Sorry, Professor," he forced himself to mumble. He began carefully brushing the sand back into the jar.

Uncle Ron. That's where he'd heard the story. Uncle Ron had tried that curse once in school, only it'd rebounded. Albus's father had told the story more than once, apparently finding it hilarious.

The person Ron had tried to jinx was Draco Malfoy. Albus was suddenly quite certain he knew who had done the same to Draco's son.

 

~*~

 

By the time Zabini finally dismissed him later that night, the Quidditch match had been over for an hour. He stumbled his way to the Gryffindor tower, his mood dark. His robes and hands stank of all the ingredients he'd been handling, he'd managed to cut himself with some rather sharp hawk talons, and it had taken him nearly three hours to do all the work without help. He was furious at himself for ever speaking up in class, furious with Zabini for coming up with such a tedious detention assignment, and especially furious with James for jinxing Scorpius and guaranteeing Albus got stuck doing all the work by himself. He should have listened when Felicia had asked if he thought James would do something to Scorpius. Couldn't James have waited until Saturday to pull his stupid trick?

"Stratocumulus," he said sourly to the Fat Lady, and scrambled in the second she swung aside.

The Gryffindor common room was in chaos. It was easy to tell they'd won the game. Someone had smuggled food up from the kitchen, and there were Gryffindor banners hanging everywhere. The Quidditch team was smack dab in the middle of the commotion, excitedly retelling their most daring moves on the field.

James spotted Albus and ran up to him, looking triumphant. He adored being the center of the attention, and the back slaps and compliments coming from all sides were putting him in rare form.

"We won!" he yelled.

"Yeah, figured that out," Albus said shortly. "I need to talk to you."

James deflated slightly. "What, no congratulations? I beaned the Hufflepuff Seeker so hard he almost fell off his broom! Gave our Seeker time to grab the Snitch! It was great!"

Albus turned his back on James and pushed his way through the crowd. He didn't stop until he found a relatively private area near the fireplace. James followed, starting to look irritated. "What's your problem?" he snapped. "It's not my fault you had detention."

"Did you jinx Scorpius before the game?" Albus demanded.

James blinked. Whatever he had expected Albus to say, that was not it. "What?"

"I know it was you! Or one of you." He sent a swift glare towards Fred and Roxanne, who were acting out moves from the game. "But you were definitely in on it. You're the one who was blaming him for me getting detention."

"So what if Malfoy got jinxed?" James's face was starting to get red with anger. "I just helped win the game, and all you care about is that Malfoy's crying over a dumb joke?"

"I had to do Zabini's detention all by myself!" Albus shouted. "It took hours, and it was horrible! I might've actually made it to the end of your stupid game if Scorpius had been there to help me. But instead he was in the hospital wing while I spent the last three hours organizing rotting ingredients by myself."

Some of the nearby students grew quiet at his raised voice, and started to glance over at them. Victoire uncoiled herself from where she was writing Teddy a letter in a nearby chair and gave them a displeased look.

James grabbed Albus's arm and dragged him over to a corner. "Look, I didn't know you had to do it by yourself, all right? If he wasn't such a baby, he'd have been able to help with some of it instead of hiding in a hospital bed the whole time."

"If this is your idea of an apology, you really suck at it," Albus snarled. James opened his mouth, but Albus didn't feel like listening anymore. Some of the noise had died down, and a lot of people were staring now. He shoved James out of the way and stormed up the stairs to the dormitory.

 

~*~

 

Albus and James spent the weekend frostily ignoring each other. In fact, Albus rarely even saw his brother for the next two days; James, Roxanne, and Fred were once again conspicuously absent from the grounds or the common room. Albus found he no longer cared what they were up to. He was still furious at having gone through Zabini's wretched detention alone and at the fact that James had refused to apologize.

“Do you need help with your homework?” Felicia asked tentatively during lunch on Sunday. “You didn't come to the library with us yesterday.”

“I'm fine. I had Victoire help me out a bit,” Albus said shortly, picking at his pasta listlessly. He glanced towards the Slytherin table. Scorpius seemed none the worse for wear after his bout of slug vomit, though apparently the thought of eating noodles was not sitting well with him. He was eating a sandwich instead, talking with a group of other first year Slytherins.

Felicia followed his gaze. “Do you really think James did it?”

“Yeah. You're the one who thought he might take it out on Scorpius. Guess you were right.” Albus set his fork down and got to his feet. His irritation was sapping his appetite. “I still have to finish my History of Magic report. I'll be in the library.”

Felicia looked as if she was about to suggest going with him, then thought better of it. “All right. Um, I'll be outside with Rose and Andrew if you want to find us later.”

“Sure.” Stuffing a roll in his pocket for later, Albus left the Hall.

In truth, he had little intention of doing his essay. But at least in the library it was quiet and he would be left alone. He was still angry at Zabini and James, and couldn't help but be a little mad at Scorpius for not being at detention. It didn't matter that it wasn't Scorpius's fault. The three hours spent in Zabini's dungeon had been aggravating enough to make him bitter towards anyone who'd had anything to do with it.

He spread his textbook and his parchment on a nearby table to claim his space, wandered over to the history aisle, and walked aimlessly up and down the aisle, barely paying attention to the titles. He chose a book at random, then went into the next aisle to avoid the two girls who had come looking for history books as well.

He froze at the end of the magical theory aisle. Scorpius was there, still shrugging his bag off as his eyes skimmed the Transfiguration section. Albus started to turn away, then impulsively walked up to the other boy.

“Is James the one who jinxed you?” he asked without preamble.

Scorpius jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. On seeing Albus, his eyes narrowed. “Don't tell me you didn't put him up to it.” He snatched up a book. “You'd better watch your back, Potter.”

“I did _not_ put him up to it,” Albus hissed furiously. “You think I wanted to do detention all by myself? It was lousy. I thought you were just skipping out until Professor Sinistra came to tell Zabini where you were.”

Scorpius made a sound of disbelief, glaring at the bookshelves rather than look at him.

Albus managed to resist the overwhelming urge to throw his own book at Scorpius's head. “I can't believe I covered for you with Zabini. I got into a big row with my brother for jinxing you, but maybe you were asking for it after all.” He stormed off to his table, ignoring the librarian's severe look.

He opened the book to a random page and sat glaring at the page without registering a single word he was reading.

A few minutes later he sensed someone hovering by his chair and glanced up. Scorpius had followed him and was looking at him with an odd look on his face. Albus opened his mouth to tell him to shove off, but Scorpius spoke first.

“I didn't see who jinxed me. The halls were too crowded.”

Albus returned his glare to his book. “Yeah, well, James was pretty mad about me missing his first Quidditch game, so it doesn't take a genius to figure out who was behind it. Besides, he didn't exactly deny it.”

Scorpius was silent for a few moments, then, “Did you really fight with your brother about it?”

Albus shot him another angry look, irked by the incredulous tone. There was something in Scorpius's expression that gave him pause, however. “Yeah.” He looked back at his book quickly. Some of his anger had cooled. Scorpius seemed to be having trouble believing Albus had argued with his brother over Scorpius, and that made Albus feel a little wretched for some reason. Did Scorpius not have any close friends? Why else would he seem so warily confused about this?

 _He's a Malfoy,_ he reminded himself. _Pureblood. Lots of Slytherin students probably like him._ _Especially any who knew his father when he was in school._ There were probably children of Death Eaters who... He felt his mouth tug in a frown. No, the Malfoys had not left on good terms with a lot of their fellow Death Eaters. According to Albus's parents, the Malfoys had all but turned their backs on Voldemort at the end of the war. They became more concerned with keeping each other alive than securing a victory in the war.

“Did Zabini give you make-up detention?” he asked.

He saw Scorpius shrug out of the corner of his eye. “Monday. He said I'll be scraping all the bits of potion and ingredients that have crusted to the tops and undersides of the desks. Some of it's been molding there for years.”

“Still sounds loads better than what I had to do.” Albus explained bitterly the task of identifying and labeling fifty-odd jars of ingredients. “I had to scrub my hands for an hour to get rid of the smell,” he finished, grimacing as he checked under his nails for the umpteenth time. “It took me three hours. Especially since Zabini kept checking my work and finding mistakes or harassing me about my handwriting.”

He hadn't noticed that at some point Scorpius had sat down across from him. Scorpius barely seemed to have noticed, himself. He looked at the books Scorpius had brought over, hoping to keep him from realizing he'd just sat down with a Gryffindor. “I keep seeing you with books about Transfiguration. Either you like it way too much, or you're having as rotten a time in class as I am.”

“Is there any class you _are_ good at, Potter?” Scorpius sneered.

Albus made a face at him. “I'm the best in my class at Charms, smarty. Quit being an evasive prat.”

Scorpius scowled back, but turned his eyes down towards his book. He picked at the binding in a nervous, self-conscious gesture. “I'm good at it,” he muttered. “Professor Switch said I'm doing really well for a first year.”

“Lucky you,” Albus sighed, pushing his book away. He'd grabbed the wrong one in his irritated distraction earlier. “The closest I've gotten to doing it correctly is making a twig slightly more brown.”

A smirk threatened the edges of Scorpius's lips, but he suppressed it an instant later. “It's difficult magic,” he said airily. “Not everyone's up to it.”

Albus reconsidered his earlier temptation to chuck his book at the boy. Before he could think of a retort, however, a girl's voice interrupted them.

“Scorpius?”

He turned. A small group of Slytherins had been passing the table, their arms loaded with books. One of them, a first year by the look of her, was looking from Scorpius to Albus with obvious dislike.

“Why are you sitting with _him_?” she asked scornfully. “Come on, you can sit with us. There's plenty of room.”

Scorpius got up quickly, looking a little embarrassed. He collected his things and followed his classmates without a backwards look at Albus. One of the older Slytherins sneered at Albus in passing.

Albus ignored them, pushing himself away from the table with a small sigh. He was in no mood to do homework, and being so thoroughly rebuffed by the Slytherins made him think of his own friends. He was still annoyed by James's refusal to apologize, but the rest of his anger had faded away. He returned his book to the shelf and went to find Felicia and the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I fixed the thing with the notes showing up on every chapter by putting them at the end of chapter 2 instead of chapter 1 :D  
> Also, for some reason I kept forgetting Victoire is in Gryffindor as well, which is why she pops up a couple times this chapter.  
> Thank you for the reviews so far! :D :D Every time I see them I get all happy and end up knocking out half a chapter in one go lol


	6. The Judges

At least one good thing had come out of Albus's detention. He now knew more about potions ingredients than he'd ever wanted to know before. He could identify them quickly, tell which bits were the freshest, and even found answering his Potions homework assignments easier. Armed with his new knowledge and Scorpius's grudging teamwork, they both began improving.

That Thursday night, James approached Albus with an odd olive branch of peace. He brought Albus down to the common room when the others were all in bed, to gain some privacy. “Look, all right, so I jinxed Malfoy,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and scowling at the floor. “Maybe I should've just waited until Saturday. I'm sorry it meant you got stuck with Zabini alone for so long.”

Albus looked at him and said nothing. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, his feet tucked underneath himself and his arms crossed. James paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. It was starting to get a little chilly out, and the common room was cozy and warm with the crackling fire.

James put his hands on his hips and gave Albus a stern look spoiled somewhat by the nervous way he kept shifting his feet. “Look, if I tell you about the fifth House, will that make you feel better?”

“Maybe. Is it a club?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” James took the chair across from Albus and lowered his voice, despite the fact that they were alone. “It's called the House of Judgement. Lucas Thatcher started talking about it near the end of last year, getting together people who were interested. And we started it up when we came back to school this year. We call ourselves the Judges, see? The members, I mean.” He grinned. “It's all pretty hush hush. A secret club.”

Albus felt his brows lower. He knew Lucas. He was the Keeper of the Gryffindor team, a big sixth year who teased first years a lot-- particularly ones from other Houses. Albus had spotted him more than once laughing at the Slytherins he'd seen jinxed in the hallways. He'd been one of the boys with Fred in the hallway a few weeks ago. “Judges of what?”

“Lucas's aunt was in the Battle for Hogwarts, back with Mum and Dad. He said it never sat right with him how the whole Slytherin House were just kind of shuffled off to safety while the other Houses fought and died. A lot of the students in Slytherin agreed with the horrible things going on at Hogwarts at the time, and half of 'em had parents who were Death Eaters. But they were allowed to return to finish their education. And so were their kids. Heck, there are Death Eaters out there who never saw the inside of Azkaban just because they managed to keep their identities a secret from the Order.”

“It's Dad's job to find those people,” Albus said hotly. “And punish them. What's that got to do with anything? Are you saying you guys 'judge' Slytherins?”

“Well, yeah.”

Albus stared at him, stunned. “They didn't have anything to do with any of that. That was their folks. And plenty of the kids here probably don't even have Death Eater relatives.”

“That's just what started it,” James said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But really, Slytherin's always been full of bad seeds. They pick on everybody else. They've bullied the other Houses for too long. You remember all Dad's stories. Slytherin shouldn't even _be_ a House anymore! Look at the psychos that came from that House! Tom Riddle, Severus Snape, the Malfoys, the Carrows--”

“You're the ones who've been jinxing the Slytherins on the sly,” Albus blurted out. “Are you out of your minds?”

“If anyone deserves a little public humiliation, it's the Slytherins.”

“Peter Pettigrew wasn't in Slytherin!” Albus shouted. “Or did you only listen to the parts of Dad's stories you wanted to hear? Regulas Black _was_ a Slytherin-- and you know he tried to hurt Voldemort. And what about me? My name--”

“Severus Snape was a wretch,” James snapped. “He may have had guts, but he was still a slimy snake. The way he treated Dad and all the others, what he did to Teddy's dad, how he had this creepy obsession with our grandmother--” He stopped as someone from the dormitories let out a loud snore.

“I just mean that just because you're from a certain House doesn't mean you're gonna turn out either perfect or horrible,” Albus hissed, glancing towards the stairs. “Slytherin's got a lot of jerks in it, but maybe some of 'em would be all right if they didn't have the whole rest of the school acting like they're Death Eaters.”

James got to his feet abruptly, looking down at Albus with obvious disappointment. “You're too little to understand.”

“You're only one year older than me,” Albus retorted, stung. “I just mean maybe all Slytherins aren't as bad as you think. Some of the people getting jinxed are my age. And what kind of person thinks it's okay to jinx kids just because of what House they're in?” James glanced away, and Albus pressed his advantage. “Like Scorpius; he isn't all bad, he's--”

“Malfoy!” James threw up his hands in disgust. “Why are you defending him? Stay away from him! His dad was a prat and he's gonna be trouble, too.”

“This stupid club is wrong,” Albus insisted hotly. “You can't just go jinxing Slytherins for no reason.”

“Whatever. I'm done talking about this.” James stomped off towards the stairs. He stopped suddenly and turned to point a warning finger at Albus. “Look, you keep your mouth shut about this. It's a _secret_ club, all right? You don't wanna join? Fine. You wanna sit up there on your high horse? Fine. Then just forget I said anything.”

“James--”

But his brother had already disappeared up the staircase.

Albus slumped in his chair, putting his face in his hands. He could feel his pulse banging in his temple.

How could James and the others be so _stupid_? He'd met plenty of mean Slytherins, but he couldn't understand what made these 'Judges' think that gave them the right to lash out at anyone who happened to be in the House. For half a minute he considered writing his father a letter, but disregarded the idea almost immediately. Tattling to his father wouldn't help. If anything, it would only make James angrier. And Roxanne and Fred, too; Albus was sure now that they were in the fifth House as well. That must be where they kept disappearing to all the time.

He sat in the common room for another hour, fuming and fretting, until he realized how late it was and went to bed. He couldn't tell his father, but he had to tell someone. Felicia might immediately want to tell Neville. As Head of Gryffindor, he'd be the one to step in and dole out punishment. Rose would be a better option. She was family; she'd want all the facts and a chance to confront her cousins first.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Albus gulped down a hasty breakfast, told Felicia he'd meet her in class, and hurried over to the Ravenclaw table. He could feel James glaring at him in warning, but ignored him.

He found his cousin seated with Molly and some of their friends and tapped her on the shoulder. “Rose, I have to talk to you. It's important.”

“Uh... okay.” She exchanged a puzzled look with Molly and got up, grabbing a pastry.

Albus led her out into the hallway and hastily told her everything James had revealed about the club.

“House of Judgement?” she repeated, lip curling a little. She'd listened wide-eyed to his story, and now looked ready to spit tacks. “I can't believe them! We've got to make them see sense. Not just because they're being cruel, but you _know_ the Professors will find out about their silly club sooner or later. Then they'll all be punished.”

“Well, you're welcome to try,” Albus said bitterly. “James just blew me off.”

“I'll grab him and Roxanne after Potions. Their class is right after mine.” She glanced over as students started coming out of the Great Hall in clumps. “We'd better get to class. Meet me here at lunch time and I'll tell you how it went.”

 

~*~

 

All throughout his Potions class, Albus debated whether or not he should warn Scorpius about the House of Judgement. Maybe some Slytherins deserved a good jinx, he mused darkly, listening to Felicia yelp quietly as Delilah stamped on her foot under the desk. But not all of them. And while he was still barely on speaking terms with Scorpius, he didn't think the boy deserved to end up huddled over a bucket puking up disgusting things again.

But Zabini prowled the classroom constantly, and the one time Albus hesitantly tried to veer off the topic of potion-making, Zabini somehow seemed to know, and came to hover over him and watch him work unnervingly for several minutes. Albus would just have to trust that Scorpius would already be watching his own back after that run-in with James. And likely the Slytherins had already warned each other to watch out; even if they didn't know about the Judges, they had probably noticed they were targets long before Albus had.

Besides, he and Rose were trying to keep James from getting in trouble before they could talk sense into him. If Scorpius knew the whole story, he could go to Sinistra and get James in a lot of trouble.

So Albus kept his mouth shut, and at lunch hurried to the hallway outside the Great Hall, where Rose was already waiting for him. Felicia looked a little hurt when he told her to go eat without him, but went to find a seat without a word.

“No good,” Rose said the second Felicia was gone. She had her arms crossed tightly, and there was a dark frown on her face. “They blew me off, told me to mind my own business. Even hinted that if the Professors cottoned on, they'd know who to blame. Nothing I said to them seemed to get through.”

Albus felt his shoulders slump in dismay. He'd been sure if anyone could talk sense into them, it was Rose. “Then what do we do?”

“Nothing, for now. We can keep talking to them about it, maybe wear them down. But I don't want to risk getting them into a lot of trouble unless we have no choice. As despicable as it is, it's mostly harmless right now. The Slytherins are getting humiliated, but no one's getting hurt. It's not unheard of for students to get jinxed.” She sighed. “Maybe the Judges will get tired of it soon. Are you going to tell your dad?”

“No. James would probably never talk to me again. Same with Fred and Rox.” He kicked the wall in frustration, and regretted it instantly. He hopped on one foot painfully for a moment. “I guess you're right, we'll just have to hope we can wear them down. Come on, let's eat.”

 

~*~

 

Now that he knew what to look for, Albus became aware of just how many Slytherins were falling victim to the Judges' pranks.

It seemed that every other day some Slytherin was getting hit with a jinx in the crowded hallways and sometimes even in the middle of class. The Judges were sneaky, he'd give them that much. A Ravenclaw had been caught jinxing Delilah on the way to lunch once, which left Albus conflicted. On the one hand, it implied that it wasn't just Gryffindors in the fifth House, which was disconcerting. But on the other hand, it was Delilah. Even Felicia couldn't drum up much sympathy.

“There's no Hufflepuffs in your brother's stupid club,” Rose confirmed one day after dinner. “I asked Louis about it. He's heard of the club, but he doesn't want to get the others in trouble. One of his friends was asked about joining; that's how Louis found out. And I think I know of a few Ravenclaws who are part of it. They disappear a _lot_. And they were laughing about that first year Slytherin's teeth growing so long the other day.”

“Guess I'm not too surprised,” Albus admitted, glancing back to make sure the librarian wasn't in hearing range. He, Molly, and Rose were in the library. Ostentatiously they were doing homework, but Albus suspected Rose had just wanted to tell him her discovery in private. Rose had told Molly everything, but she didn't seem to want to turn them in, either.

“I can't really imagine anyone from Hufflepuff putting up with that kind of thing,” Molly agreed in a whisper. “They're pretty laid back and friendly. Even the Slytherins mostly ignore them.”

Rose was picking nervously at her quill. She cleared her throat, looking quickly at Albus. “Look, Al.... About James. I know he can be a snotrag sometimes, but he's still your brother. He hasn't actually hurt anyone, he just likes to mess with people. You really should try to talk to him again.” She hurried on when Albus's expression darkened. “There's another Quidditch match before Christmas break. You can pull him aside beforehand--”

“And start another fight right before the game so he can blame me if they lose? No thanks.” Albus realized he was gnawing irritably on his nails and put his hand flat on the table. “Besides, they're facing Slytherin on the field. Tensions will be high enough without me telling him what a short-sighted neanderthal he is. The last thing we need is him taking out his temper on their Catchers with a Bludger.”

“Then do it over Christmas break,” Rose said stubbornly. “Tis the season for forgiveness and all that, yeah?”

The librarian was headed their way, an angry glint in her eye, so Albus didn't get a chance to respond. He bent his head over his book and tried to push all thoughts of the House of Judgement from his mind.

 

~*~

 

As the game approached, things got just as ugly as Louis had warned. The Slytherin and Gryffindor teams harassed each other constantly in the hallways and in class. There was so much jinxing, it was impossible to tell if the Judges even had a hand in it.

“It's ridiculous,” Felicia exclaimed as they watched one of the Catchers hurrying by with her hands covering her blotchy face. “It's just a _game_. And if anyone gets caught, they'll be suspended from the match.”

Even James eventually got hit. He began tap-dancing so wildly on his way to Charms that he almost fell down the stairs and broke his neck. Luckily, Roxanne and the other Catcher were there to grab him just in time.

“Serves him right,” Albus muttered when he heard, but hoped James would be better about watching his back.

By the time the game night actually arrived, there was as much animosity as excitement rife throughout the school. Albus, for his part, found himself actually looking forward to the game. He wanted to see how well his brother and cousins could play, and the excitement of the other students was infectious.

That Friday after dinner, everyone hurried out of the Great Hall and headed for the Quidditch pitch.

“Malfoy's not interested, I guess,” Felicia noted, and pointed out where Scorpius was heading in the direction of the Slytherin dungeon.

“Maybe he's afraid he'll get jinxed again in all the commotion,” Rose snorted, slipping through the packed crowd to join them. She had wrapped a scarlet scarf around her throat to show support for her cousins' team.

As the cold air bit into him, Albus began to wish he'd done the same.

When they reached the stands, Rose hurried off to sit with Ravenclaw, and Albus found seats for himself and Felicia up between Andrew and Victoire.

You couldn't be related to Harry and Ginny Potter and not be interested in Quidditch. As the two teams stepped out onto the field, Albus found himself cheering as loudly as the other students. All his previous anger towards his brother was temporarily forgotten in the excitement of the game.

Victoire poked him in the shoulder to direct his attention towards the faculty stands. “You see, my brother is there,” she said proudly in an accent almost as pronounced as her mother's. “After ze last game, ze 'Eadmaster said 'e is a very fair commentator, and asked him to do it again.”

Albus peered down at the figures gathering on the grass below. Professor Chang stood between them, Quaffle in hand.

Louis's voice echoed out across the field. “The Gryffindor and Slytherin Captains are meeting on the field... And there goes the Quaffle!”

Albus had been to the Quidditch World Cup a few years ago with his family, so in comparison, Hogwarts games were tame. But it was still exciting to watch his cousins and brother play. Fred and James were wreaking havoc together as Beaters. James earned a penalty ten minutes in for smacking a Bludger at the Slytherin Keeper for shouting obscenities at Roxanne after she scored, and Fred's devastating aim was doing a good job at giving the Catchers a clear path. The Slytherins fought dirty whenever they thought they could get away with it, and Albus found himself on his feet shouting himself hoarse whenever Gryffindor scored or the Seekers made a go for the ever-elusive Snitch.

Felicia, who'd had a crash course explanation in the game rules the night before, started jumping up and down beside Albus after the forty-minute mark. “She sees it, she sees it!” she screamed.

The Gryffindor Seeker, a wiry sixth year, had just twisted in midair and was diving towards the field at a breakneck pace. The Slytherin Seeker rushed to intercept, but he'd spotted her move too late. The stands erupted in deafening cheers as Gryffindor's Seeker snatched up the golden orb, winning the game by a hundred points.

“Two games in a row,” Rose laughed as they all made their way back to the school afterward. “There'll be no living with them now.”

“As if James's head's not big enough already,” Albus agreed, but he was grinning.

The Gryffindor common room was as riotous as it had been after the last game. Fred and Olivia, the other Catcher, were giving their Seeker a ride around on their shoulders, while Roxanne and James were throwing wizard crackers to everyone in sight. Albus met James's gaze briefly, both of them grinning, flushed with victory, but Albus didn't approach. He didn't want to risk spoiling the fun by getting into another argument. Perhaps James felt the same way, because he focused most of his attention on his team mates.

_Probably for the best,_ Albus thought, pulling a wizard cracker open with Felicia. Still, he felt a little lonely despite the crowd of people. He should be congratulating his brother, not avoiding him.

“Don't you want to say something to him?” Felicia asked as if reading his thoughts.

Albus felt a twinge of annoyance. “No. If he comes over and apologizes for being a prat and promises to quit that dumb club, we can be all right again. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of trying to patch things up myself.”

But it was hard to avoid James and the others in the commotion, so eventually he went to bed early to risk another confrontation. Christmas break was coming up. One of them was going to have to get in the holiday forgiving mood soon, but Albus didn't feel up to it.

_James won't do it,_ he thought grimly.  _He's too stubborn._ He rolled over and stuffed his head under the pillow to block out the noise from downstairs, his mood already gloomy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nerdy author note: In before someone calls me on a major “typo”. My word processor constantly tried to tell me I was misspelling “judgement” and that it's supposed to be “judgment”. I finally ended up looking it up on a grammar site, and there's a huge debate over it. Supposedly the US usually uses “judgment”, though several people studying law say “judgement” is still used in a lot of paperwork, and others say that's not how they were taught. Anyway, I'm in the US and I was taught judgement growing up, and the other way looks really really weird and practically unpronounceable to me. So I'm sticking with “judgement”.


	7. Truce

Christmas break had arrived surprisingly quickly. With all the schoolwork, stress, and Quidditch pandemonium, the first term had gone by almost faster than Albus liked.

As per usual, the Weasley and Potter families had come together to share Christmas dinner. The den was so full of presents it was impossible to even sit around the fireplace until they'd all been unwrapped. Albus got countless gifts from his many relatives and family friends, including a scratchy but warm pair of gloves from Hagrid (he suspected they'd been homemade), a beautiful new set of fancy quills from Minerva McGonagall, and huge poster of his favorite Quidditch team from his father to hang by his bed in the dormitories. As he stuffed his face full of the chocolate cauldrons Rose had given him, he answered the many questions Lily had about Hogwarts and his classes. He told her about Zabini (his father, overhearing, frowned but said nothing), Felicia, the moving staircases, his surprising talent in Charms, and played along when Louis hinted at a swimming pool on top of the astronomy tower. He was careful not to mention anything about the House of Judgement.

“I'm pleased you're doing so well in Charms,” his mother said with a smile as he helped her clear up the piles of wrapping paper. As he beamed, she added in a lower voice, “Were you upset that Rose got Sorted to Ravenclaw?”

He glanced past her, where Rose was describing the way Ravenclaw students had to answer a riddle to get into their common room. “I was at first,” he admitted. “But I guess it really does suit her. Besides, I still see her everyday, and we study together in the library. And it meant I got to make other friends, like Felicia.”

She nodded. “You kids have always had each other. I was the same way growing up with so many brothers. It's good to branch out and make friends for yourself outside the family.” She caught Harry looking her way and winked at him.

Harry came over and swept her up in his arms, dancing around the room with deliberate pomp and circumstance while his children laughed.

Hermione spoke in an undertone. “Speaking of friends...”

Albus jumped. He hadn't been aware that his aunt was perched on the couch nearby fixing a toy Hugo had already managed to break. She eyed Albus shrewdly, tapping her wand against the toy so that it flew back into one piece. “I hear you're getting along with Draco Malfoy's son. Or at least you're on speaking terms.”

Albus shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. He very carefully didn't look around for James. He wasn't sure who'd told about Scorpius, but he was willing to bet James had done so in hopes someone would tell Albus how foolish he was. He stamped down on a flare of annoyance. It was Christmas. He and James had been putting extra effort into being cordial to each other in front of their family, despite their spat.

“We kind of help each other in Potions,” he said. “He's okay, I guess. I wouldn't call him a friend.”

“Hm.” Hermione tossed the toy to Hugo, who ran off to show it to his sister. “There's always been a rift between Slytherin and Gryffindor. And I know you're aware of the rivalry there was between Draco and your father. I think it's big of you not to judge Scorpius by his father's deeds. It's past time Slytherin got over itself and Gryffindor tried getting along with them.”

Albus blinked, a little surprised.

“All right, who wants dinner?” Harry walked over to tussle his son's hair and looked around. “Al, where'd your brother go? There are too many kids in this house. Hermione, you'll mail them back if we accidentally leave one or two behind, won't you?”

“Daaad,” Albus complained, pushing the hand away with a grin.

“Guess I'd better keep them in arm's reach while I can,” Harry declared, scooping Albus up and tucking him under his elbow as if he was carrying a sack of flour. “One down,” he called to Ginny as Albus flailed against the grip, arms and legs dangling. “We're trading someone for one of Ron's if the headcount comes up short tomorrow.”

Amid the chaos and good cheer of Christmas dinner, it was easy to forget Zabini's snide remarks and the antics of the fifth House. Before it got too dark, the cousins smuggled their brooms to a nearby field and played a quick game of Quidditch while Teddy, in between being endlessly distracted by Victoire, acted as referee.

“You going to try out for the team next year?” Dominique asked as she circled the makeshift goal ring.

“I dunno.” Albus was hovering nearby, eyes roving the sky. His father had lent them his Snitch for the game, and Albus was standing in as Seeker against Louis. “I still don't feel like I'm good enough on a broom. Anyway, I don't know what position I'd be any good at.”

“You'd make an all right Seeker,” Dominique noted when Albus narrowly missed the Snitch a few minutes later. “With some practice.”

Albus shrugged, uncomfortable. He didn't like the idea of so much riding on whether or not he could catch the Snitch. Playing with his family was fine, but if he were to miss the Snitch in a game in front of his whole school, he didn't think he could bear the shame. Or James's disappointment and inevitable accusations. “Quidditch is James's thing,” he muttered, and Dominique let it drop.

_Maybe a Catcher would be all right,_ Albus mused to himself, watching Roxanne dart across the field with the ball tucked under her arm. Though it wasn't the safest position, with the Bludgers constantly aiming at you and the other Catchers snapping at your heels. Perhaps he should leave Quidditch to the others. At home it was fun. In school, the pressure to do well in every game might not suit him at all.

Then Fleur was calling for them to come back inside, and the game was ended on a questionable tie. As they headed back towards the house, James brushed by Albus without looking at him. Albus swallowed a sigh. In a couple days they would be back in school and his uneasy truce with his brother would be over. He had to make James see sense and quit the fifth House before the Professors found out about it. Or worse, before a prank blew up in the Judges' faces.

 

~*~

 

As fun as the holidays had been, it was still nice to be back in the Common Room and see Felicia again once school resumed. “How was your Christmas?” she asked, handing him a box of candy canes. “I'm sorry, I meant to give you something before the holiday break, but I forgot.”

“It was fun. Thanks.” Albus rummaged in his bag, feeling guilty for not having gotten her anything. “Uh, here, this is for you.” He handed over a couple chocolate frogs, and laughed when she squealed at their jumping spell.

“Those are just ordinary candy,” she explained, clutching a frog and watching him unwrap a candy cane. “Muggle candy.” She glanced over at where James was sitting by the fire with Roxanne and Fred, speaking in low voices. “Looks like they're already thinking up new tricks for their silly club.”

Albus snapped off a piece of the candy, refusing to look over at them. “I almost hope he gets caught. Stupid git.”

Felicia opened her mouth, then shut it again, unsure of what to say. Andrew saved them by dropping into a seat in between them and telling them all about his Christmas break visiting relatives in Canada.

Classes resumed, albeit with some commotion. The professors bore it in stride, accustomed to students still wound up from holidays. Zabini, predictably, seemed to never have even heard of holiday cheer, and was as snappish and impatient as always. No one dared cut up in Potions class, though they couldn't resist talking across the tables to each other in low voices when the professor had to step outside for a minute to speak with Flitwick. Albus glanced around. The Slytherins were ignoring their Gryffindor partners, and vice versa. He looked up from his Potions book to eye Scorpius thoughtfully. What on earth, he found himself wondering, was Christmas like at the Malfoy house?

The question was out before he realized he even intended to ask it. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

Scorpius didn't look up at first. When there was only an awkward silence, he glanced from Albus to Felicia's table, obviously assuming it was she Albus was talking to.

“You celebrate Christmas, right?” Albus asked patiently.

Scorpius stared at him, nonplussed. “Yes,” he said finally.

“And?”

“And there were presents and turkey, like normal,” Scorpius said with a familiar hint of snideness. “How do _you_ celebrate Christmas, Potter? Unwrapping bundles of coal underneath a portrait of Godric Gryffindor?”

Albus couldn't quite hold back an amused grin. “It's a huge statue of Albus Dumbledore, actually.”

Scorpius snorted, looking away quickly. Zabini returned a moment later, and all talk instantly died.

It took only three days for the Judges to get up to their old tricks. By the end of the week, five Slytherins had been jinxed, and one Gryffindor had caught a retaliatory hex and ended up in the hospital wing with his victim. Albus made one final attempt at dissuading James from his actions, but the ensuing fight was the biggest one they'd had yet. After that, they ignored each other coldly. Any of Rose's fretful attempts to heal the relationship were rebuffed.

“He'll be over it by next year,” Felicia consoled, keeping her voice low so that Flitwick wouldn't overhear. They were learning engorging spells in Charms class, and as usual, Albus had gotten the hang of the spell very quickly.

“I hope he loses the next Quidditch match,” Albus muttered darkly, poking at his enlarged toadstool with his wand. It was twice as big as his fist. “If there's any such thing as karma, he'll take a nose dive on the pitch in front of everyone. He's the one that jinxed that Slytherin girl yesterday, I know it. That bat bogey hex is Mum's specialty. He must've learned it from her.”

“Are you mad because of what he's up to or because of the names he called you?” Rose asked, glancing towards the back of the classroom where Flitwick was helping another Ravenclaw. “I mean, the club is stupid and mean, but aside from Malfoy, I didn't think you cared much for Slytherin.”

“Malfoy's a git,” Albus snapped, poking a hole in his toadstool on accident with the tip of his wand. The tenuous alliance he'd shared with his Potions partner had been temporarily put on hold the prior day when Malfoy had used up the last of the cobwebs and refused to share any of his with Albus. Albus had failed the lesson.

Felicia and Rose exchanged a look over his head.

“Don't let James get to you,” Rose murmured. “Dominique says boys are stupid at that age--”

“Hey!”

Rose continued as if he hadn't spoken. “And Felicia's right, he'll probably be bored of it by next year.”

"Maybe." Albus watched as Felicia attempted the engorgio charm on her own tiny toadstool for the fifth time. "But if Fred and Roxanne don't give it up, I don't think he will, either."

 

~*~

 

Gryffindor didn't lose the next match as Albus had hoped, but only just. So many of their Quidditch team got jinxed by angry Slytherins in the hallway that it was a miracle they managed to get enough on the field to play. If their Seeker hadn't gotten to the Snitch early in the game, they would have lost miserably. In retaliation, the Judges ramped up the number of hexes they submitted the Slytherins to. Eventually someone took it a step too far.

Albus didn't witness it, but Andrew had, and he told Albus and Felicia about it during lunch.

“Some first year Slytherin got hit,” he breathed. “Right before first class. Hard, too. I dunno if two people tried to jinx her at once or what, but it lifted her off her feet. Knocked her down a flight of stairs. She broke her arm.”

Felicia's mouth dropped open in horror. Albus found himself glaring down the table towards his brother. James, Roxanne, and Fred had their heads together and were whispering, gesticulating wildly. They all looked tense.

“It couldn't have been James,” Felicia hissed in Albus's ear, sounding scared. “He has class on the other side of the castle in the morning.”

“Fred doesn't,” Albus said through his teeth. His stomach felt cold and knotted. He didn't want to think that his cousin had been in on it, but Fred _did_ look a little pale.

“They say she's related to Death Eaters from the last war,” Andrew continued, jerking his chin towards the Slytherin table. “So there aren't a lot of sympathizers over here. That lot looks hopping mad, though.”

Albus glanced over his shoulder. There was a girl just sitting down, her arm swathed in bandages and her face splotchy from the after-effects of the jinx. It was the girl who'd invited Scorpius to sit with her friends in the library before Christmas break. The Slytherins around her were making a big deal of her injury and sending venomous looks towards the Gryffindor table. Scorpius caught Albus's eye and offered him a dirty look before looking pointedly away.

“He's definitely not helping me in Potions tomorrow,” Albus sighed.

Felicia stared at him.

“I'm just sayin'!” Albus held up his hands defensively. “I mean, I know it's bad. Especially if she saw who did it. It's only gonna make things worse.”

“You need to talk to James,” Felicia said firmly. “Fred won't listen to you, but he might listen to your brother.”

“I'm not talking to James right now, remember? And what if he put Fred up to it?” They fell silent. Some of the Gryffindors were getting up to get to their next class early. One of them was Lucas, the Keeper. Albus was still pretty sure he was part of the fifth House. And by the way he clapped Fred on the shoulder and grinned at him in a congratulatory way, Albus could guess who the second jinxer had probably been. Fred, to his credit, just stared at the table, still looking a little pale.

The tension between the two Houses was as thick and borderline dangerous as it was before Quidditch games. Professors and ghosts prowled the halls, watching their students carefully in hopes of preventing any more incidents. The oversight did force the Judges to be more careful, and Slytherins weren't able to get their revenge as often as they'd have probably liked, but some jinxes still happened whenever a teacher's back was turned. It got so that older students starting teaching the younger ones how to cast protection and deflection charms.

“If she did see who hit her, you should learn, too,” Felicia told Albus nervously. “You're kind of an easy target because you're a first year, and if they can't get to Fred or your brother, they'll get to you.”

“I don't want Fred or Roxy teaching me,” Albus said immediately.

“Then ask Victoire. She's a seventh year, she must know all the tricks.”

Victoire was only too willing to teach Albus the protection charm, though she seemed irritated about the whole thing. Albus couldn't tell if it was because she suspected who was behind the jinx that had hurt the Slytherin girl or because she was entrenched in studying for her last year exams. Defense Against the Dark Arts was not Albus's best subject, as it was James's, but he tried to look at it like learning a new Charm. After a couple hours' practice, he had Protego down, and was quick to teach it to Felicia, just in case. She had more difficulty with it, and he wasn't sure she'd be able to use it in a pinch, but she didn't seem to think she'd be targeted.

“What if they can't hit me so they hit you?” he pointed out. “You're always with me, so it makes sense.”

She sighed and tried again. “There's probably someone else you should teach this to,” she said quietly. Albus didn't answer, and she didn't push it. The idea had already occurred to him, though he'd tried to ignore it.

The next day in Potions, Scorpius ignored Albus as if he wasn't even there. Zabini swept through the classroom watching his Gryffindor students with narrowed, distrustful eyes, so Albus couldn't even hiss anything at his lab partner. Because they weren't helping each other, Scorpius's potion fell short and Albus's practically burned a hole through the bottom of his cauldron, but he didn't care. As soon as class was over, he told Felicia he'd catch up with her and hurried after Scorpius.

“Wait up!” He grabbed the other boy's bag to slow him down. “I need to talk to--”

He found three wands pointed right at his face in an instant, and froze.

Three Slytherins that he hadn't noticed leaving the class behind him were all holding their wands on him, their faces dangerous.

Scorpius turned slowly and looked from Albus to his classmates with an unreadable expression.

“I've got it,” he muttered a little sullenly. The three Slytherins slowly lowered their wands, still glaring at Albus distrustfully. After a moment's hesitation, Scorpius grabbed Albus by the front of his robes and hauled him over towards the wall. “What do you want, Potter?” he snapped. “Let me warn you, I know a lot more jinxes than you d--”

“Do you know the Protego charm?” Albus blurted. He just wanted this conversation to be over with. His back was itching; he was expecting a jinx to hit him from behind at any second. Or if a Gryffindor classmate saw him talking to Scorpius, they might mention it to Fred. Or whip out their wand and attempt to defend him.

Scorpius's expression went blank. “The... what?”

“The Protego charm. It's where you make a sh--”

“I know what it is!” Scorpius crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Albus in obvious suspicion. “Of course I do. The seventh years pulled all the younger years together right before Christmas and showed it to us. Otherwise there'd be a lot more people jinxed than there are.”

“Oh.” That made sense. The Slytherins had noticed they were being targeted and acted accordingly. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure. Victoire-- my cousin –just taught me, so I thought...” he trailed off, feeling embarrassed. Of course the Slytherins were looking after their own. There'd been no need for him to make a fool-- and possibly a potential target –of himself in front of the other Slytherins.

Scorpius was eyeing him oddly, but he didn't say anything for a long while. Finally he looked away, shrugging stiffly. “I can take care of myself, Potter.”

“Yeah,” Albus muttered, still aware of the other Slytherins glaring at him. “Okay, see you.” He hurried off to catch up with Felicia. He still felt a little foolish.

But after that, without a word of explanation, Scorpius began grudgingly helping Albus in Potions again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was out of town!


	8. The Last Straw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lordddd I'm so sorry for just kind of.. abandoning this fic for awhile. o_o; First it was slight writer's block, then I got really caught up in my new job, and then there were the holidays. Then the other day I reread the last couple chapters, realized how close to the end I was, and guiltily started this chapter today. Forgive meee D: Since it's winding to a close, the next update will hopefully be soon.

Fred's contrite attitude did not last long.

“He's encouraging them, I just know it,” Al grumbled one day over lunch.

“Who?” Felicia turned to follow his gaze, to where Peeves was floating up and down the table, flicking peas at students' heads and singing a nonsense tune very loudly. Fred and Roxanne were singing cheerily along. “Oh.” Felicia ducked down slightly, trying to stay out of the ghost's line of sight. “That ghost is crazy. He chased me down the hall firing spitballs at me my third day here. I haven't seen much of him lately, and I kind of hoped it'd stay that way.”

 “I think it's because he's too busy helping out the Judges,” Al said grimly.

 “The what?” Andrew interrupted from across the table, fork pausing halfway to his mouth.

 Al jumped guiltily. He hadn't been aware that Andrew was listening. He did not want to discuss the fifth House with anyone outside of Felicia or his family. Especially if it meant exposing his brother's involvement. “Er, I meant... I was just wondering if he knew anything about all the jinxing going on.”

 Andrew leaned over, whispering eagerly, “Yanno, I have heard some kids say he's been seen a lot right after someone gets jinxed. Usually laughing or calling attention to it.”

 “Playing lookout, maybe,” Felicia murmured, exchanging a look with Al.

 “Or pointing out vulnerable targets,” Al agreed, scowling in his brother's direction. James, if he felt the glare, did not deign to look his way.

 Peeves did seem a likely culprit; it was right up his mischievous alley, and it would explain how the Judges almost never seemed to get caught red-handed. The other ghosts, however-- with the noted exception of the Bloody Baron –continued to patrol the halls on the behest of the faculty, trying to prevent accidents before they happened.

 The jinxing, which had petered out for a week or so after the Slytherin girl's accident, eventually picked up right where it had started with a vengeance as the next Quidditch game approached. It had become so commonplace that a lot of students began treating it as old news. Only Slytherin understandably remained vigilant and angry. Even after Shacklebolt made a grim announcement that any apprehended culprit would face dire consequences, the jinxing continued.

 Al himself became so embroiled in his studies that he found himself giving less and less thought to the Judges. Actively avoiding his brother and cousins made it easier to ignore, as did the steadily increasing workload from his professors.

 He was doing marginally better in Potions, now that he and Scorpius were wary partners in class, and Charms class made him actually feel like a competent wizard. But Transfiguration remained very difficult, and History of Magic put him to sleep almost every day.

 With only a few months left in the school year, the end of year exams began looming ever closer. Having had yet to successfully transform anything in Transfiguration class, Al eventually decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

 He stalked the library every afternoon until finally he came upon Scorpius one day, unaccompanied by other Slytherins.

 He slid into a seat across from the other boy, feeling embarrassed and tense. “I have a huge favor to ask,” he said quickly, trying to forestall an order to get lost.

 Scorpius looked up at him slowly, a frown pulling down at the corners of his mouth. He had history books scattered across the tabletop, and was tediously penning what looked like a long essay for Professor Binns. “Whatever it is, assume the answer is no. I'm busy, Potter. Go away.”

 “You said you were doing pretty well in Transfiguration, right?” Al interrupted, clutching at the edge of the table. “Well I'm rubbish at it. I need help, or I'm going to fail.”

 Scorpius stared at him as if he'd started speaking in a foreign tongue. He glanced around suddenly, perhaps wondering if he was being set up for some elaborate prank. “We cooperate in Potions because we have no choice,” he said stiffly. “You must be out of your mind if you think--”

 “I can help you with something else in return,” Al said desperately. “I'm great at Charms--”

 “I don't need help with Charms.”

 “Or... or I can help you study for--”

 Scorpius put down his quill and focused an impatient glare on his uninvited guest. “Unlike you,” he sneered, “I'm not in danger of failing any classes. Go ask one of your five thousand cousins for help.”

 “There aren't five thousand,” Al said defensively. “Anyway, a lot of them are in more advanced classes, they're in higher years, and--” He stopped, unwilling to admit that he wasn't talking to James, who would normally have been the first person he'd go to.

 “You have a cousin in Ravenclaw,” Scorpius snapped. “Go pick her brain.”

 “She's in panic mode over the exams. She spends every spare second in the Ravenclaw common room studying. Every time I ask her for help, she says she's too busy trying to memorize facts for History of Magic. And you already said _you're_ doing really well at Transfiguration. Come on, I'll owe you a favor.”

 Scorpius stared at him, but didn't respond. Perhaps the idea of Al owing him was enough to give him pause.

 Al never found out.

 From out in the hall, there was a sudden uproar. Both boys leapt to their feet and ran to find the source of the commotion. Scorpius pulled his wand as they went, and after a moment's hesitation, Al followed suit.

 Skidding to a stop in the hallway, it took only a few moments to discern the source of the noise.

 A group of Gryffindors had been heading towards the library to study, and had been ambushed by a smaller group of Slytherins. Al caught a glimpse of the girl whose arm had been broken by Fred's jinx before; she was clearly leading a retaliation attack.

 Spells and jinxes bounced back and forth, narrowly missing their targets.

 “Maybe we should've stayed in the library,” Al squeaked. Scorpius, looking furious but wary, started to back away towards the relative safety of the library, and Al turned to follow. From the other end of the hall, more students were hurrying to see what was going on. James was with them.

 “Sneaks!” he shouted, raising his wand to defend his classmates.

 Al felt a rush of adrenaline. Was his brother insane? He would only add the the chaos, and all this noise had no doubt already alerted a Professor. It wouldn't be long before Professors and ghosts showed up to break up the fight. “James, stop it!” he shouted.

 Startled, James looked his way, seeming to notice him for the first time. Beside him was a Ravenclaw boy that Al didn't recognize. Looking flushed and on edge, he followed James's gaze, and his eyes skipped quickly to the boy just behind Al.

 “There's one,” he yelped, and slashed at the air with his wand.

 Scorpius's attempt at deflection was a second too slow. “Pro-- _Aghh_!” He staggered back and hit the wall, clutching at his face. Through his fingers, blotchy red and purple spots began appearing, then festered into boils and began oozing.

 Albus's anger at his brother and his frustration with the Judges boiled over. He jerked up his wand, aiming at the Ravenclaw boy and shouting the first spell that popped into his head. “ _Engorgio_!”

 The boy gave a high-pitched yelp of alarm as his nose swelled rapidly to the size of a plum.

 “Stop it!” James cried, lunging at the boy, who was already raising his wand in automatic response.

 “ _Protego_!” Al stammered hastily. The protective shield shimmered to life, but was a weak one. Some of the Ravenclaw's spell made it through, and his head snapped back as it was dealt a stinging blow. Blood spurted from his nose, and he gagged on the taste.

 Jinxes were flying thick and fast on the air, striking random students, including some who had come to see what was going on. More spells bounced off the walls, adding to the general chaos. Screams, shouts, and howls of pain or anger echoed in the hall. Somewhere from the back of the crowd, Al thought he could hear Zabini and another Professor shouting.

 “ _Protego_!” Al cried again, more clearly this time. The shield leapt up, covering himself and Scorpius, who was sagging against the wall behind him. Two more spells ricocheted off the shield, but Al couldn't see who had thrown them, or even if they'd been aimed at him. James was shoving his way through the crowd towards him, mouth moving, but Al couldn't make out the words through the chaos. Just as the shield failed, Zabini, Flitwick, and Sinistra appeared in the center of the chaos, wands held aloft.

 “EVERYBODY STOP!” Zabini roared, his voice amplified ten times by the wand he was touching to his own throat.

 The students flinched and fell back, lowering their wands uneasily. There was a strained silence, broken only by the moans and whimpers of those who had been jinxed. Then even those petered out as the Headmaster came striding up, his face a thundercloud.

 “All students are to return to their Houses immediately,” he said sternly. “No one is to leave until your Heads of House say otherwise.” He glared around at all of them. “If anyone would like to step forward and explain this shameful display, remain behind. Anyone requiring immediate attention from a healer, report to the infirmary. Go!”

 Al turned and grabbed Scorpius's arm, tugging him insistently. “We need to go,” he muttered.

 Scorpius tried to shrug him off without taking his hands from his face. A moment later a pair of Slytherins slipped over, shoved Al aside, and hurried off with Scorpius supported between them. Looking up, Al caught James staring at him, white-faced, from across the hall. Reaching up to rub blood angrily from his upper lip, Al turned away and began shoving himself through the departing crowd, eager to get back to the Gryffindor common room and away from his brother.

 By the time he scrambled through the fat lady's portrait, he was shaking in the aftermath. He'd never used spells against other students before. What if someone had let loose a more debilitating jinx and seriously hurt someone? For all he knew, they had. He had been too busy defending himself to see how others were faring. He ignored Felicia when she called to him and crept up to the dormitory. He lay down in his bed and stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding.

 James was in serious trouble. Too many people could place him at the scene. Al himself might be in trouble for attacking that Ravenclaw. What would his parents say when they got the owls? What if he or James got expelled?

 He lay shaking, his stomach sick with nerves, until he heard Neville calling everyone from the common room. He forced himself to get out of bed and made his way slowly down the stairs. Everyone was gathered in the common room, with Neville at the center, looking around with an expression of deep disappointment that only made Al feel worse. Nerves jangling at the tense silence, he threaded his way through his fellow Gryffindors and sank onto the couch between Victoire and Felicia.

 “I'm sure by now all of you have heard what's happened,” Neville sighed. “I'm not sure which of you were involved-- yet –but I'm very disappointed in you. Striking out at fellow students-- you should be ashamed. What if someone had gotten seriously hurt?”

 Al stared at his feet. He was afraid if he looked up, he'd find James or Fred and Roxanne in the crowd, and he didn't want to know what kind of expression they were wearing.

 “Everyone is confined to the common room for the rest of the day,” Neville continued. “The Headmaster is going to make an announcement during dinner. I'll come to fetch all of you this evening.” Shaking his head, Neville left without another word.

 As soon as he'd left, everyone began talking excitedly.

 “What happened??” Felicia demanded, digging a handkerchief from her robes and offering it to Al with wide, frightened eyes. “Are you all right?”

 Al stared at her blankly until Victoire reached out and took the handkerchief. She began dabbing at Al's nose, and he winced, remembering that he had not cleaned all the blood off his face. That would explain why so many students kept glancing at him curiously.

 “It's nothing,” he muttered, pulling his face away and wiping at the blood with his sleeve. “Some Ravenclaw jerk attacked Scorpius, and when I retaliated, he did this. Would've been worse if you hadn't taught me the Protego spell, Vic.”

 Victoire's eyes blazed. “Zis 'as gotten ridiculous,” she seethed. “I 'ave 'alf a mind to send an owl home myself!”

 Al looked at her in alarm, wondering how much she really knew about the Judges.

 “You were there?” someone asked with interest, coming over.

 “So was Grace!” someone else claimed, pointing at a girl whose eyebrows looked practically singed off.

 Questions flew fast and thick, and Al sank deeper into the couch, letting Grace explain. She'd been one of the students passing through checking out what the commotion was and had gotten caught in the crossfire. Al kept his mouth shut, unwilling to admit that his brother had been a part of it. Felicia eyed him suspiciously but didn't pry.

 As Grace babbled excitedly, Al allowed himself to finally glance around the room in search of his brother. He scanned the strained faces several times before turning to Felicia with a tickle of dread creeping up his spine. “Where's James? And Fred and Roxanne-- did you see them come in?”

 Felicia and Victoire exchanged a quick look. “I thought I saw Roxanne for a second, but she went straight upstairs. I'm not sure about the boys.”

 Al started to rise, thinking maybe he'd check the rooms for his brother, but sat down again after a moment's debate. No. He didn't want to inadvertently start an argument. If James and the siblings were hiding upstairs, maybe their consciences had finally kicked in. It'd be best to let them stew for awhile.

 “I 'ave never seen ze Headmaster so angry,” Victoire said, running a long lock of hair through her fingers nervously. “Whatever ze announcement is that he is going to make, it will not be a pleasant one, I think.”

 Andrew, who'd finally spotted them, came over and squeezed into a seat on Felicia's other side. “Do you think he'll find a way to punish everyone?” he asked.

 “Not Hufflepuff, I hope,” Felicia said. “They're not in--” She stopped, flicking Andrew a glance, and said instead, “They haven't been a part of the jinxing. Even Slytherin knows that; they've left Hufflepuff alone so far as I've heard.”

 Victoire sighed loudly and dug in her bag for her textbooks. “Zere is no use wondering,” she declared. “I am going to study until ze Headmaster calls for us.”

 There didn't seem to be much else to do, so after a moment Felicia and Al reluctantly pulled out their own books. Andrew rolled his eyes and went to go join a group of other first years who were still excitedly talking about the hallway incident.

 Despite his best intentions to block out all conversation and spend his time wisely, Al read the same page three times before he finally gave up. He could tell by the fixated way Felicia was staring at her own history book that she was not getting any studying done, either. He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. She was the one person present who he could speak freely to about the fifth House, and she wouldn't judge him like his cousins might for speaking with Scorpius, much less defending him.

 “Come on,” he muttered, nudging her and nodding towards a corner away from the other students. “I'll tell you what really happened.”


	9. Whistleblower

**~*Chapter 9*~**

**Whistleblower**

 

 

When Neville came to fetch the Gryffindor students for dinner, everyone filed out after him and went down the halls in tense silence. Even the older students hadn't seen Professor Shacklebolt angry before, and were nervous about what someone who had once been Minister of Magic would deem a worthy punishment. And Neville, usually friendly and borderline awkward, still wore a mask of grim disappointment, which was dispiriting.

At some point a small commotion rose up as they passed by the House hourglasses. Word quickly trickled through the students that almost every hourglass was close to empty. Points had been drastically taken from the student body. Neville shushed them firmly, and they fell silent again until they reached the great hall and filed in with the other Houses, everyone carefully avoiding eye contact. Whispers started up again as it was pointed out that there were a handful of students already seated at their respective tables, staring down at their laps.

“Look,” Felicia hissed, pointing out where James, Fred, and Roxanne were huddled together at the Gryffindor table. Albus felt his heart give a nervous thump, and stood on tiptoe to check the other students already seated. Some of them he didn't recognize, but he thought the boy at the end of the Ravenclaw table might be the one who'd attacked Scorpius and himself, and there was the girl from Slytherin that Fred had jinxed. Even Lucas Thatcher, the Gryffindor Keeper, was there, and he was the one James said had come up with the whole idea.

“A lot of them are Judges,” Al said quietly. “Maybe someone panicked when they got caught and started ratting everyone else out.”

“Good,” Felicia said, taking a seat huffily beside him.

Al glanced once or twice towards his brother, but James continued to stare at the tabletop as if his eyes were nailed to it. How much trouble was James likely to be in? He looked pale, and Roxanne was blinking a lot, her mouth quivering. Even Fred's face was blotchy as if he'd been recently yelling or was holding back some strong emotion. Had punishments already been handed out to the Judges? The siblings hadn't even been in the hallway earlier. Someone had definitely snitched. Al found his gaze flickering towards the Slytherin girl, the most likely culprit. He tried to decide if he was relieved it was out in the open, or angry that she'd gotten his family into so much trouble.

Felicia elbowed him, and he turned his attention hastily to the podium in front of the professors' table, where Shacklebolt had just appeared. A hush immediately fell over the room as the Headmaster's eyes roved over each table, his expression stern.

“I'm sure you've all been very much aware of the shameful behavior some of your fellow students have been up to,” he said in his deep, slow voice. “Using spells in the hallways is against school rules, and to use this magic with the intent to harm each other is reprehensible.” His gaze continued to track each student, as many eyes lowered quickly in shame. “It has come to my attention that this all began when a select group of students decided it would be justified to lash out at Slytherin House simply because of things that occurred before any of you were born. The victims of these attacks had nothing more to do with the actions of Death Eaters and old childhood rivals than any of the rest of you. It saddens and angers me that anyone with a conscience or a grain of sense would see any of this as justified.”

Al chanced a quick peek towards James, who was white as a sheet and still staring at the tabletop, his shoulders hunched in humiliation. Almost despite himself, Al felt a moment's empathy for his brother. What Al had been trying to get across to him for months, Professor Shacklebolt seemed to be reaching him far more effectively with his calm but admonishing words. Even Roxanne and Fred looked like they were squirming.

“What has been occurring in this school has been bullying, plain and simple,” Shacklebolt continued. “And it will not be tolerated. Some of the victims and perpetrators have come forward, and we now know those responsible. Therefore, punishment will be dealt accordingly.” He waved his wand, and suddenly the House point hourglasses were lined up behind him. Al stared at the Gryffindor hourglass with a sinking feeling. There were almost no rubies remaining in it, proof that most of the Judges had been from his House. The Ravenclaw hourglass was also less than half full now, and even Slytherin looked like it had lost a fair amount of emeralds. Only Hufflepuff's hourglass looked unchanged. It occurred to Al that this meant that Hufflepuff was quite likely to win the House Cup unless Slytherin managed to somehow catch up before the end of the year. It looked impossible for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor to catch up in time.

Shacklebolt began explaining how students had banded together to form a phantom “fifth House” called the House of Judgement, and how its members had swelled during the year and resulted in numerous jinxes, injuries, and general bad feeling amongst the student body. Al kept his eyes focused on the hourglasses, feeling his face heat up. He hoped fervently that no one would realize he'd known about it all year and hadn't gone to the Headmaster for fear of getting his relatives in trouble.

“You will note,” Shacklebolt was saying, “that Hufflepuff seems to have come out of this fairly unscathed.” He motioned to the hourglass with one big hand. “That is because, of all the Houses, they alone refrained from getting involved. And while Slytherin members were the initial victims of these attacks, they still lose points for retaliation, including the attack in the hallway today.” There was grumbling from the Slytherin table, but it subsided slowly as Shacklebolt turned his stern gaze their way. “I have been given the names of these so-called Judges, from various reliable sources.” There was a swell in murmuring for a moment, and Al shook his head hastily when Felicia shot him a sharp look. Some members of the Judges looked stunned or sullen. The only reliable source could be one of their own members blowing the whistle. Accusing glances were being exchanged.

Shacklebolt raised his hands for silence. “I will not be naming names,” he said firmly. “But since many members were also on Quidditch teams, and being pulled from the teams is one fitting punishment, all Quidditch games for the rest of the year are hereby canceled.”

There was an immediate uproar. In the end, Hagrid had to pound his huge fist on the table several times to silence the indignant students.

“Owls have already been sent to the parents or guardians of those who have had a hand in these acts,” Shacklebolt continued, an edge to his voice that effectively silenced the rest of the grumbling. “There will also be detentions, not just for the Judges, but for those who were never official members but still joined in on the chaos.” His eyes flickered towards the Slytherin table briefly. The girl who'd led the attack earlier ducked her head, scowling. “If you somehow discover that certain classmates were Judges, or even suspect, keep in mind that any attempts at retaliation or misguided 'justice' will be dealt with severely.” He paused, and there was a heavy, unhappy silence.

Abruptly he sighed, as if the whole situation had tired him greatly, and spread his hands wide, his tone becoming much calmer. “It has been discussed off and on, and especially throughout this year, that it would benefit this school if we could build up comradeship between Houses. Once, the rift between Houses was the seed for many hard feelings, violence, and distrust.” A lot of heads swiveled between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the two Houses most set against each other, but no one interrupted. “We must learn from these mistakes. Even our dear Sorting Hat has urged a union between our Houses more than once. You may have noticed that many Professors have tried to encourage such cooperation in their classes.” Al found himself looking at Zabini, sitting sour-faced and silent between Sinistra and Flitwick. “Starting next year, we will begin hosting an annual event that we hope will help to form bonds between the Houses, and mend old wounds that have been allowed to fester too long.” Al didn't look over towards the Slytherin table for Scorpius, but it was a close thing. “After dinner, I want you all to return to your Houses and do your schoolwork. Tomorrow is another day.” And with that, Shacklebolt clapped his hands sharply, and the night's dinner appeared on the tables.

 

~*~

 

“I understand why you were being so secretive about it, you know,” Felicia said later that evening.

Al glanced up at her, feeling a twinge of guilt. They were sitting close to the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, helping each other with their History of Magic homework. It was getting late, and the other students had gone solemnly up to their beds.

Felicia was twiddling her quill in her fingers, shooting Al sideways looks. “You wanted to protect your brother. I get it.”

“I still probably should have told you sooner,” Al admitted. “We're friends. I guess I just... I was worried you'd tattle. And I was still hoping I could talk some sense into him.” He looked down sheepishly at his book. “I guess I'm not really used to having friends outside my family. It seemed risky and weird letting you in on it.”

Felicia smiled. “I don't know most of my extended family,” she said quietly. “And I'm an only child. So I can't relate. But it makes sense. And you're right, I... probably would have tried to talk to Professor Longbottom about it as things got worse.”

“I'm starting to think it would've saved everyone some grief if you had,” Al sighed, shutting his book and rubbing at his tired eyes.

“But you would've been really angry with me,” Felicia murmured, looking sad. “And what if you'd never talked to me again?”

Al squirmed internally, feeling guilty for something that hadn't even happened. “Well, things turned out all right,” he said bracingly. “The Judges are being punished, no one got exploded, and it looks like the Headmaster's serious about trying to get our Houses to cooperate.”

“I wonder what he has in mind,” Felicia mused, closing her own textbook with relief. “Slytherin and Gryffindor have had problems for so long, I don't see how just sitting us together in classes is supposed to help.”

“It must be something big.” Al felt a smile tugging at his mouth. “Did you see Fred's face when Shacklebolt said Quidditch was canceled for the rest of the year? I thought he was going to cry right there in front of everyone.”

Felicia stifled a giggle. “Roxanne looked ready to jump right out of her chair, too. And James looked like someone had just run over his dog or something.”

“He didn't look too surprised, though,” Al remembered. “Just upset.”

“Maybe because he knew he'd be punished eventually. I guess he was just hoping it would be something more like detention.” They both fell silent as muffled footsteps alerted them to the approach of a student coming down from the dormitories. Turning, they fell silent as James shuffled into the room. He saw them and stopped, staring awkwardly.

Felicia stuffed her book into her bag and got to her feet. “It's getting late,” she said quickly. “I'll see you tomorrow, Al.”

“G'night,” he mumbled, lowering his eyes to his book. Felicia hurried upstairs, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the common room. Al stared unblinkingly at his textbook, wondering what to say. Had James come looking for him? Should he wait until James apologized first for being such a near-sighted git?

He looked up, startled, as James turned abruptly and started to head back upstairs.

“I'm sorry about Quidditch getting canceled,” he blurted.

James froze with one foot on the stairs. After a moment, he finally turned and stepped back into the common room, looking wary. “Yeah, well... Shacklebolt had to make sure we all knew how serious he was.” He looked down at his feet, unable to hold his brother's gaze. “Guess we kinda had it coming. Things got out of control.”

Al opened his mouth for an unkind reply, but stopped himself. He took a deep breath. “Mum and Dad have got the owl by now. Think they'll be really mad?”

“I think I'll probably be grounded until I'm forty,” James said glumly. He sank into a nearby chair, staring moodily into the fire. “I'm not sure about Roxy and Fred. Uncle George was always getting into trouble in school, so he might just let it slide.”

“I don't think their mum will let him,” Al pointed out. “Anyway, Dad also used to get into all kinds of trouble, so--”

“Dad didn't go around jinxing people just because he could,” James said shortly. He shifted in his chair, looking as if the admittance made him supremely uncomfortable. “It all sounded like it made sense, when we first started the fifth House,” he said more quietly. “And so many of the Slytherins were gits to begin with. But then people started getting hurt, and little kids were getting really spooked. It doesn't look so funny in hindsight. And if Vic hadn't taught you the Protego spell, you could've been hurt pretty bad today.”

Watching the conflicting emotions flicker across his brother's face, Al thought that perhaps he wouldn't bring up his bloodied nose when his parents asked him for details about the fight in the hallway. If they found out Al had gotten caught in the crossfire, their mother may very well hit the roof, and James's punishment would grow more severe.

“So Shacklebolt knows about everyone who was a Judge?” he asked, steering the conversation away from the earlier chaos. “I mean, Slytherin couldn't know who all of you were.”

“It wasn't a Slytherin that ratted out the Judges,” James said with a touch of bitterness.

Al watched him carefully. “So it was a Judge?” If James found out who had been the whistle blower-- worse, if Fred found out –would there be attempts at retaliation? James wouldn't look too fondly on a snitch, even if he did regret some of the things the Judges had done.

James gave a snort of unamused laughter. “Obviously.” He began plucking at a loose thread in his pajamas, his mouth set in a tight white line.

Al stared at him in stunned realization. “It was you. _You_ went to Shacklebolt, didn't you?”

James shrugged; a quick, jerky motion. He still wouldn't look at Al. “Things had gotten way too out of hand. And then with you getting hurt... I knew no one else would say anything. Or at least, they wouldn't tell the whole story. I didn't want to. I didn't want to get in trouble, or get Roxy and the others in hot water. But they wouldn't have stopped otherwise. And then I just thought... well, what would Dad do in my place?”

Al didn't know how to respond. He felt an unfamiliar surge of pride for his older brother. “Dad would have confessed,” he said at last.

“Confessed,” James repeated quietly. He finally glanced up, meeting Al's eyes for a second. “Well, it sounds better than 'tattled'.”

Al grinned, and after a moment, James smiled hesitantly back.

A sudden thought struck Al. “Does anyone know you're the one who told? I mean... Roxanne and Fred, do they--?”

James shook his head quickly. “No. The rest of the Judges would be furious. And I'm not sure how Roxy and Fred would take it.”

“I won't tell them,” Al assured him, glancing towards the stairs to ensure they were alone. “I think they might take it personally. Fred especially.”

“Thanks.” James smiled, then got up abruptly, looking uncomfortable. Similarly, Al found himself a little embarrassed. It was odd to think that just that morning he'd been thinking he'd never talk to James again. Even on a good day, arguing and teasing was commonplace between them. He couldn't remember the last time James had sincerely thanked him for anything.

Al gathered his books and jammed them into his bag. “Who do you have detention with?”

“Neville, mostly.” James shrugged one shoulder. “So it shouldn't be too bad. Better than Zabini, anyway.” He smirked.

“Oh, ha ha.”


	10. Home Again

**~*Chapter 10*~**

**Home Again**

 

 

The next few months were tense and unhappy for much of the student body.

There was a lot of detention handed down to those involved with the jinxing-- especially to those fingered as Judges. A lot of Judges were still angry at the knowledge that some unknown member of their false House had ratted them out. If Roxy or Fred ever suspected James, neither of them said anything. The three of them took their punishment with grim solemnity, though the Howlers they received from their parents made Al's ears ring from the other end of the table during breakfast.

The entire student body was depressed about the lack of Quidditch, but if anything, Shacklebolt's punishments seemed to help them in their schoolwork. Without fear of being jinxed or Quidditch to look forward to, everyone seemed more focused on desperately trying to earn back House points by doing well in classes.

Scorpius was anything but warm, but he still continued to help Al during Potions, and he even nodded once in greeting when they passed each other in the hallway. He remained snarky and impatient, and made no effort to seek out Al outside of Potions class, so Al did not consider him a friend, but it was nice that they were at least able to remain civil towards one another. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd helped shield Scorpius with Protego or if seeing James and the others punished had just soothed his temper. Either way, Al was pleased that things were mended with his brother and he was scraping by in Potions with Scorpius's help.

He was still lousy at Transfigurations, but Scorpius continued to flat-out refuse to tutor him.

With each House so bent on showing off in class and trying to avoid further detention, everyone's grades seemed to improve somewhat. As finals approached, the initial panic did not feel as sharp as it might otherwise have; study groups had become the norm, and Al felt at least somewhat confident that he would do well. Or well enough to squeak by, perhaps. He was quite ready to throw himself from the astronomy tower after yet another long evening spent memorizing dates and important figures for History of Magic.

Zabini, who had once treated everyone with equal disdain, no longer gave points to anyone but Slytherin during Potions. Not even when a Gryffindor student managed to make a perfect potion, which Al found furiously unfair, considering he'd given five points to Delilah Castor for getting a question right. No one said anything, but it was clear the Professor was still holding a grudge against the Judges for going after his House. Rose admitted glumly that he wasn't giving points to Ravenclaw, either, though he'd given a few points to one Hufflepuff boy. No one was mad at _them_ , at least.

“Hopefully he'll have cooled down by next year,” Rose sighed. “I'd hoped to gain Ravenclaw back some points by really shining in Potions, but he couldn't care less.”

Slowly the Houses began earning back some points, and by the onset of June, it looked like Ravenclaw might have a chance to give Hufflepuff a run for its money.

“We're screwed,” James sighed, looking at the hourglasses one afternoon with Al.

“Definitely,” Al agreed glumly. They were in last place. He'd thought it would be nice to get the House Cup his first year, but it was a disappointment he found easy to shrug off. They'd deserved to lose so many points, and there was always next year. It was just a prestige thing, after all-- not even as grand as winning Quidditch. He winced as he made the mental connection, shooting a glance at his brother, who looked depressed. No wonder James was so upset. It wasn't just his competitive nature. He had no Quidditch to play and win; that left only the House Cup. And now it seemed that was out of reach as well.

“We'll get it next year,” he said bracingly.

“Yeah,” James muttered. He turned his back on the hourglasses. “C'mon, let's get some lunch.”

 

~*~

 

Al and Felicia spent the week before the final exams frantically trying to stuff every bit of knowledge into their heads that they could. They were in the library every day, sometimes for up to three hours, cramming with Rose-- and Andrew, when they could bully him into it. Al briefly considered inviting Scorpius to join them-- for his supposed Transfiguration smarts if nothing else –but the others refused to allow it. Besides, as Rose pointed out, he was likely studying with other Slytherin first years already.

When the exams finally came, Al was relieved to find that many of them were not as bad as he'd feared, though he was dead sure he'd have failed History of Magic if he hadn't studied so much. He walked out of Potions and Transfiguration with no idea if he'd even passed, and wasn't sure how he'd done in Astronomy or DADA. Charms, at least, was easy, and Herbology wasn't bad either. There was even an “exam” for flying lessons, though Professor Cho said it was more of a marker to see where they were at. And since all of them could at least hover, there was no way to fail, only give her an idea of who might need more instruction in the future, or who should stay away from Quidditch tryouts-- or, alternatively, who should maybe look into trying out for the team next year. Al managed to fly the designated lap without wobbling visibly, and stumbled only a little on landing. Felicia fell off her broom as she came in for a landing, but she still seemed pleased with her progress overall.

In the end, Al's fears were for nothing. He passed every class (though some he barely scraped by in). Rose and Felicia had done even better. “Looks like James managed to pass Potions,” Al laughed, pointing out the expression of sick relief on his brother's face as he looked over his grades. “Mum was threatening to bar him from Quidditch if he failed anything, especially after the whole mess with the Judges.”

Time had gone by so swiftly that the End-of-Term Feast almost caught Al off guard. Felicia looked upset about having to leave Hogwarts, especially with the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to practice any magic outside of school.

“I want to make sure I don't get rusty,” she sighed, squeezing into her spot between Andrew and Al at the Gryffindor table. “Plus, I really think Mom and Dad would get a kick out of seeing some magic.”

“Bring back a copy of the Daily Prophet,” Al suggested. “They might get a laugh out of seeing all the moving pictures, at least.”

“Ooo, that's a good idea.”

They fell silent as Shacklebolt rose and rang a small silver bell for attention. All heads swiveled towards the front.

“I would like to congratulate you all for your fine work on the exams,” the Headmaster said in his sonorous voice. “It has been a rough year for many of you, but I hope you'll leave with good memories as well. During the break, remember the friends you've made, the magic you've seen, and the lessons you've learned-- both in and out of the classroom.” He raised his goblet in a toast. “To our seventh years, I wish you all the best. We are proud of you all, and will miss seeing your faces in the halls.” He set down his goblet carefully. “And now... the House points.” He pulled out his wand and gave it a small wave; instantly, the hourglasses lined up at the front of the hall as they had before. Staring at the scant amount of rubies, Al felt his heart sink. It was obvious who had lost before Shacklebolt even spoke. “In fourth place, Gryffindor, with 95 points.”

The applause that followed was scattered and just this edge of polite. Al slapped his hands together twice, reluctantly, and shot a glance towards his brother further down the table. James and his friends were wearing very long faces indeed. It was a miserable score to have. Victoire in particular looked like she'd swallowed something sour. Perhaps she'd really been hoping her House would get the Cup for her last year. The thought sent a jolt of surprise through Al. He had not stopped to think that Victoire was graduating. She was going to be finding a job soon, possibly at the Ministry. And everyone expected her to marry Teddy very soon. She wouldn't be there for Al to rely on if he needed an older student for advice. He wondered glumly if he would even see her outside of holidays, now that she was an adult.

The applause had petered off quickly, and Shacklebolt was already speaking again. “In third place, Slytherin, with 212 points.”

Slytherin applauded themselves with almost defiant zeal. Hufflepuff seemed to be the only other House bothering to clap much for them.

“In second place, Ravenclaw, with 220 points.”

“They grabbed a lot of points the last few months just in classes,” Andrew muttered rebelliously. “I guess maybe they just mostly wanted to beat Slytherin, even if they couldn't win.”

“And in first place, winning the House Cup for this year, is Hufflepuff, with 356 points.”

The Hufflepuff table cheered wildly. It had been a long time since their House had won the House Cup. Al knew for a fact they'd never won it during his parents' time at Hogwarts. The applause from the other tables was much louder than it had been for the other Houses. No one had any grudges against Hufflepuff in general, and perhaps some would rather that House win than another. Especially with all the bad feelings in the air over the Judges. Al felt his mouth pull into a smile almost despite himself as he watched Louis yell himself hoarse.

Shacklebolt gave his wand a sweeping flourish, and the flags and banners immediately became emblazoned with the Hufflepuff's badger crest. “We hope to see your smiling faces next year,” the Headmaster boomed. “And I hope you are looking forward to our little competitive event next year as much as we are. Let the feast begin!”

Immediately the tables groaned under the weight of all the food that suddenly appeared, and Andrew and Al wasted no time in fighting for possession of the nearest plate of turkey.

“Hufflepuff's all right, I guess,” Andrew said, hastily stuffing a roll into his mouth with his free hand. “Better them than Slytherin, anyway!”

Felicia looked ready to say something, but squealed as both boys lost their grip on the platter and several chunks of stuffing spattered across the front of her robes.

 

~*~

 

The next morning was chaos, with everyone running around the dorms and common room trying to find mislaid items and exchanging information and promises to contact each other over the summer.

Felicia tried to explain email to Andrew and Al for ten minutes before giving up. “Just send me an owl, I guess,” she sighed. “Though I think my parents may have a conniption the first time one arrives. Here, I'll give you my address, just in case.” She seemed happy about the idea of receiving mail as she jotted down her address on two slips of paper and thrust them at the boys. “I don't think I've ever gotten a letter in the mail,” she said with a pleased grin. “Aside from my invitation to Hogwarts. But everyone here says it's the way to keep in touch, so...”

Al stuffed a roll of socks deep into his bag and took the paper, slipping it into his pocket. “I'll write,” he promised. He'd never had anyone but James to write to before. During James's first year in Hogwarts, Al had written him many letters, pestering him with endless questions about Hogwarts that James mostly refused to answer. He'd wanted Al to experience Hogwarts with fresh eyes, he'd insisted. Al secretly thought it had been his father's idea. And though James and his cousins had ended up talking a lot about Hogwarts during summer break, it had been nice to discover Hogwarts's magic and splendor for himself. _I won't tell Lily much,_ he decided. Though it was going to drive her bananas. He would be in his third year by the time she was old enough to attend.

They made their way down the changing staircases-- with Fred having to run back twice for things he'd forgotten –and followed Hagrid towards the carriages that moved by themselves.

“They don't, you know,” James said importantly as he clambered into one after Fred. “There's beasts pulling 'em, but none of us can see. Dad told me.”

“Beasts?” A little first year girl shot a startled look towards the front of the carriage. “Invisible beasts? Are they dangerous?”

“Nope,” James said cheerfully, refusing to elaborate and catching Roxanne's bag as she tossed it up to him.

“You probably don't wanna know,” Al said hastily when Felicia looked at him curiously.

“You'd sleep better at night,” Fred teased.

“Oh, move over and make room,” Al grumbled, giving him a push as he struggled onto the carriage himself. “Don't scare her.”

The carriages carried them swiftly away, and Felicia twisted in her seat eagerly to get one last look at Hogwarts. Al turned as well, gazing up at the spires and the solid walls. He would miss Hogwarts, but it would be good to spend time with his family and not have to worry about studying for awhile. He knew Lily missed having her brothers around, and perhaps his parents would get lucky at work and be able to spend most evenings at home. Even James was already making plans with his cousins on what to do and where to go during the summer. Al turned back to face the road, without the faintest idea that his father had once dreaded leaving the school every year, and would in fact have been pleased at his children's eagerness to return home.

“It's like something out of a Disney movie,” Felicia murmured, finally turning forward again as well. “I don't even know if I can do it justice when I describe it to my parents.”

“Out of a what?” Roxanne asked blankly.

Felicia laughed, but shook her head and refused to answer.

 

~*~

 

“See you, Hagrid,” Al squeaked, losing all the air from his lungs as the huge man swept him up in a quick but crushing hug. “I'll tell Dad you said hello.”

“I'll come 'round nex' month,” Hagrid promised cheerily. “Be good, you lot.”

James waved at Hagrid one last time and hurried to catch up with Roxanne and Fred, eager to get a compartment all to themselves.

“Probably going to spend the whole trip back talking about Quidditch next year,” Rose said with a fond little smile. She picked up her bag and jerked her chin towards where Molly was saying goodbye to some Ravenclaw friends. “I'm gonna talk to some of them real quick. Save me a seat?”

“Yeah, sure.” Al was hardly paying attention. His gaze had drifted to follow James, and he'd spotted a familiar twig of a boy peeling away from a clumped group of Slytherin first years.

Al dithered for several moments, then stepped forward hastily just as Scorpius was moving towards the train. “I'll see you next year,” he said quickly.

Scorpius hesitated, glancing back at him with a frown. The nearby Slytherins glared at Al with open hostility and suspicion. Finally Scorpius grunted, glancing away, and climbed aboard the train.

“Well, he didn't jinx you,” Felicia murmured in his ear, coming up behind him unseen.

Al sighed, scratching at his scalp in embarrassment. “We're not friends, but I thought maybe it'd be nice to... yanno, be on okay terms.”

“In case you get stuck with him in Potions again?” Felicia teased.

Al grinned back. “Well, yeah.”

“He didn't take out his wand or tell you to get bent,” Felicia said encouragingly, steering him towards where Andrew and the others were climbing aboard the train.

“I don't know why you bother,” Andrew admitted, turning to offer Al a comical grimace. “He seems like a stuck-up git to me.”

“I can't wait to come back,” Felicia said with a giddy grin. She looked as if she'd like to dance in place. “Mom says she'll definitely get me an owl or something as a reward for doing well on the exams. Though I think mostly she's just fascinated by the idea of an owl delivering mail.”

“Dad was hinting at the same thing,” Al said quickly. He'd almost forgotten about it during all the excitement of the school year. “He told me at the end of Christmas break. Maybe I'll get a cat or something, though. I mean, I can keep that in the dorms with me...”

“I wish we could have dogs,” Andrew sighed. “Though there's no way Mum will let me get anything like a pet after the grades I got in Transfiguration and History of Magic... Hell, she's going to hit the roof when she sees my Charms grade...”

Chatting and laughing excitedly, the friends stepped aboard the train, headed for home.

 

 

**~THE END~**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooops, sorry I haven't touched this in so long! I was working a lot of long hours, and got really caught up either playing video games or drawing in my down time. But I'm moving across the country, and when I realized I'd stopped with only one chapter left to go, I figured it was a good time to knock it out. Sorry it's so short, but it's more of a wrapping-up type of chapter. I've had the next three or four years outlined for ages, so I'm hoping to get the first chapter of Year Two out soon. :) I'm still waffling with the title, but you can check back on my profile (or just check the Mongoose series I'm listing this under) to find it.
> 
> Thank you for those who stuck with me during the unexpected hiatus, and anyone who gave this a read. And especially a million thanks to people who left lovely comments! <33 They always give me the kick in the rear I need. See you soon!


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